


I Just Want You to Know Who I Am

by noonebutusgalliformes



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27391987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noonebutusgalliformes/pseuds/noonebutusgalliformes
Summary: Elizabeth Adams didn't think she would ever fall in love again, and she certainly never thought it would be possible after she was elected to be the president of the United States. That is until the mysterious Henry McCord shows up at The White House and Elizabeth starts to realize that maybe she does have room in her life for another source of hope.Otherwise known as an AU where Henry and Elizabeth meet after Elizabeth becomes president.
Relationships: Elizabeth McCord/Henry McCord
Comments: 19
Kudos: 45





	1. Mystery Man

Elizabeth Adams was quickly making her way back toward the Oval Office.

“Good morning, Blake,” Elizabeth muttered distractedly as she walked by his desk in the outer office. She was busy reviewing a stack of reports for her next meeting, but she didn’t have to look up to know that her head assistant was sitting at his desk. 

“Morning, ma’am,” Blake responded, chuckling to himself. He didn’t think he’d ever stop being amazed at his boss’s talent for walking around the White House without looking at where she was going. He supposed all that CIA training she had must have given her a pretty damn good sense of spatial awareness. That, and the fact that no one would dare get in the way of the president as she walked through the building. 

Elizabeth had barely been in her office two seconds before she stopped short and leaned her head out the door, remembering that she had a question she wanted to ask Blake.

“Blake, who was my lunch meeting with again today?”

“Dr. Henry McCord,” he responded without so much as even glancing at her calendar. 

_You know, you’d think after nine and a half years I’d be more used to that by now,_ Elizabeth thought to herself about Blake’s uncanny memorization skills. Blake’s memory for details had amazed Elizabeth since he was her TA back when she used to teach at UVA. It was one of the many reasons he was the first person she hired to work for her after Conrad showed up at her family’s farm and asked her to be his new secretary of state.

“Right, that was who it was,” she commented as she drifted back into the outer office, her mind wandering. There had been something about that name that had bothered her when she first saw it on her schedule. It was this inexplicable feeling that something was drawing that particular name to her attention. Almost as if she had that name stored away somewhere in the back of her mind but she couldn’t quite locate the file. She’d been meaning for the last couple of days to ask Blake to help her jog her memory. “And why does the name Henry McCord sound familiar to me?”

“Well, ma’am, your paths have just barely crossed numerous times in your histories. To put it colloquially, ‘you go way back,’” Blake explained while making the air quote gesture with his fingers to emphasize his last four words. 

“I don’t have time for riddles, Blake. What does that mean?” Elizabeth almost immediately regretted asking. She could see Blake’s “list face,” as she called it, forming.

“Well, for starters, you overlapped for two years as undergrads at UVA, as well as eight years as professors. You referenced a couple of his books in some of your research when you were a professor. And he worked as an advisor for the Dalton administration. Or maybe you’ve just seen him on the TV.”

Elizabeth was shocked, “He’s famous?”

“Perhaps to the twelve viewers who watched his C-Span interview about his latest book, ma’am. But I didn’t mean that kind of TV. I meant,” Blake lowered his voice, “in the Sit Room.”

Elizabeth was confused. As she suspected would happen, Blake had overloaded her brain with a list of all the places she _should_ remember this Dr. McCord from, and none of them seemed to line up. He was a professor from UVA and a political advisor who also carried out operations that she might have monitored in the Sit Room? That was an unusual combination. _Maybe he was in the Reserves_ , she wondered. 

“So he’s military?” Elizabeth asked, hoping to shed some more light on who this mystery man was.

“Well he was many years ago, but during the middle years of Dalton administration he worked for practically every American intelligence agency under the sun: NSA, DIA, FBI, CIA. His resume reads like alphabet soup.”

“Wow, former military, intelligence work, a professor, an author, and a political advisor for Dalton? That _is_ quite a resume. No wonder his name sounded so familiar. And just so we’re clear, that’s only about a quarter of our intelligence agencies.”

“Never underestimate the power of hyperbole, ma’am.”

Elizabeth chuckled at her assistant, but it was still bothering her that she couldn’t put a face to the name Henry McCord. “Which ops was he part of?”

“Well, ma’am, I am not privy to a great deal of Dr. McCord’s work, as you can imagine, but I know he worked for SAD during his time at the CIA, and he helped investigate the Covenant of John for the FBI. Before that, he was one of the members of Black Dog and Murphy Stations, and before that, it appears that he took a trip to Bolivia just days after Gary Coomer approached you at the Society for Global Aid fundraiser. It doesn’t take a genius to see what that was about.”

That’s when it finally clicked. “Oh, I know who he is now!” Elizabeth exclaimed, excitedly. “He’s the religion guy.”

“I’m not sure if that’s his official title, Madam President, but you sure can ask when he gets here,” Blake retorted with a cheeky smile.

“Oh shut up, I’m the leader of the free world, I can make up whatever title I want for him,” Elizabeth responded with her own facetious smile that she peppered with just the right amount of adorableness.

“Of course, ma’am. Naturally, one of your many titles, Epithet Creator and Chief.”

“You better believe it, Blake the Sassy.”

“Oh come on, ma’am you can do better than that.”

“Okay, well how do these sound: Blake the Insubordinate, Blake the Impertinent. Or oh, I know, how about Blake the Fired?”

“Respectfully, Madam President, you know you wouldn’t last a day without me.”

“Aha! Case in point, Blake the Impertinent. Talking back to the president. And you know, technically I have fired you before.”

“Yes, but only as a means to promote me, ma’am.”

“Hah, minor details.”

“Of course, ma’am. Thank you, Madam President.”

“You bet.” Elizabeth started to walk away before she remembered there was another question she needed to ask, “Wait, what is this meeting about?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure ma’am”

Elizabeth was shocked to say the least. Blake was her rock, her endless source of information for anything and everything she might need to know at any moment. How was it possible that he didn’t know what one of her meetings was about? “Blake, how could you not know? Who put this on my schedule?”

“That would be the president, ma’am?”

Elizabeth mockingly looked around the office, “Last time I checked, I thought _I_ was the president.”

“Sorry, not you, I meant Former President Dalton, ma’am.”

“Conrad? The man is supposed to be retired, what the hell is he doing scheduling meetings for me?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I assumed he discussed it with you first. It seemed important. He even had someone drop off a briefing booklet for you this morning. It’s sitting on your desk right now.”

“All right, well I guess I’ll go read that before I decide what _his_ epithet is going to be for the day. I’ll be in my study until the meeting.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Elizabeth stepped through the west door of her office and entered her study. There, she found Conrad’s briefing booklet for her meeting with Dr. McCord sitting neatly next to her computer’s keyboard. She picked up the blue booklet, which had a cover that simply read: _Henry McCord, Ph.D._

_Could this get any weirder?_ Elizabeth wondered. Then she opened the booklet. Apparently it could. The first page was blank, which could have very easily been intentional, but the second page was blank as well. In fact, the entire booklet was only five pages long. Everyone of them was blank except for the third page, where it read, directly in the middle:

_Whenever you’re ready, give him a chance, Bess._

_I’ve been thinking it just might be that time._

“Conrad the Cryptic, that’s what you are,” Elizabeth mumbled to herself. _What the hell kind of BS tradecraft was this supposed to be?_ Elizabeth asked herself. _He what? Wants her to give Henry a job in her administration? But_ 'time'? _What the hell did that mean? Time for what? What did McCord advise Conrad on anyway? Religion?_

Elizabeth knew that she would run the risk of becoming even further behind schedule for the day, but if Conrad thought this meeting was worthwhile, Elizabeth figured she owed it to him to at least put some thought into it.

Elizabeth adjusted her keyboard and googled _Henry McCord_ _Ph.D._

Naturally, about a million results popped up, but the one that caught her eye was his Wikipedia page. _The former spy must_ love _having a Wikipedia page_ , she thought. Then again, she and Conrad were both former spies and they certainly had Wikipedia pages. 

Their journeys from covert analysts to a couple of the most well known public figures in the world certainly have been unconventional. And yet, here Doctor Henry McCord was with his own — albeit somewhat limited compared to that of the presidency— bit of fame staring her in the face. _What an unusual man_ , she couldn’t help but think.

Elizabeth selected the Wikipedia link and was instantly brought to the familiar, clean-looking black and white website. She began to read.

_Henry McCord, Ph.D_ ., _is an American professor, religious scholar, author, and political advisor. He is best known for his role as an ethics advisor to President Conrad Dalton during the final year of the Dalton administration._

_Ethics?!_ Elizabeth thought. She couldn’t help but wonder what she had done recently for Conrad to think she needed an ethics advisor. Sure, he obviously felt no shame in having one, but his note said, _“I think it just might be that time_.” So clearly it had to do with something she had done recently. 

Elizabeth was suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling she had disappointed Conrad. Again. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time. Frankly, she didn’t have time in her day for those kinds of thoughts anymore. She did her best to suppress the panic she felt and kept reading. 

_ Early life and education _

_McCord was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to Patrick and Mary McCord, a steelworker and a nurse, respectively. He is the oldest of four children and was raised in the Catholic faith._

_McCord earned both his Bachelor’s degree and Doctor of Philosophy in religious studies from the University of Virginia._

_Personal Life_

_McCord resides in the District of Columbia with his daughter._

That was it. 

_Dr. McCord, your page could use some serious work_ , Elizabeth couldn’t help but think to herself. They made his personal life seem almost as pathetic as hers was. Her own kids didn’t live with her anymore, but at least she still had Evelyn and Hope by her side.

It was probably for the best anyway that his Wikipedia page didn’t have more to offer. She really shouldn’t be wasting time on this when she had a meeting in five minutes.

She’d just have to wait until lunch to find out more about the mysterious Dr. McCord.


	2. Mystery Woman

Henry was excited, and perhaps just a bit terrified. He had a meeting with Elizabeth Adams today.

They had technically met a few times during the Dalton Administration at various intelligence briefings, but they had only ever talked about fighting terrorists. There had been no room for small talk.

But today, he was going to get to really talk to her. He was going to talk to her without Jane or Jose, without Mo, without Dalton, and certainty without Russell Jackson.

Today, he was going to see her, and he couldn't help but hope that maybe this time she would see him. Really see him. Not as just some random agent carrying out a mission on the monitor in the Sit Room. She would finally see him for who he really is. One could only hope.

Henry had wanted the chance to talk to Elizabeth Adams for a while now. Longer than probably anyone else, he thought. He had the opportunity a few times during the Dalton administration, but the timing was never right. To him it felt like there was some force keeping them apart. Keeping them from meeting properly. And yet, to her, he was no one. Just another cog in the large and rather complex machine that was the government of The United States of America.

He had no idea what to expect from this meeting, but he hoped that whatever the exact result, at the very least, maybe she'd remember his name this time. Maybe she'd even hire him, on a whim and somewhat out of the blue like her mentor had.

Maybe he'd get to spend his days for the next two, maybe even six years as an advisor in the Oval Office— her Oval Office.

He desperately wanted to work for her, and he was beyond grateful that the former president had gone out of his way to get him a meeting with her.

Henry knew he loved the way her mind worked. He'd always known that. From the moment he first heard her speak, he knew she was brilliant. If he had believed at the time that society wouldn't have tried to tear her down because of her gender, he could have easily predicted that she'd end up where she is today. He should've had more faith in her back then. There has seemingly been an endless stream of people who have tried to tear her down. There was just no way she was going to let them.

Henry had no doubt that it would have been easier to meet her as Secretary Adams rather than President Adams. Hell, he should have met her as Professor Adams. That would have been ideal.

He still remembered the day when he'd realized that he'd missed his chance to meet her while they were colleagues at UVA.

* * *

_Fall 2014:_

_Amy, Henry's TA, came barreling into his office in a frenzy, screaming, and even though he could see it it was from excitement, he had to admit it still terrified him a bit, "Ahhhhhhh, Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!"_

" _Woah, Amy, words. Please. That would be helpful. Tell me what's happening. Slowly."_ If that's possible _, he thought to himself._

" _Did you hear the news?"_

" _I've been grading papers all morning. What news?"_

" _About Professor Adams?"_

Elizabeth Adams? _Henry wondered. What could have possibly happened that would cause Amy to rush into his office this excited and ask him about a professor they've never had a conversation about before?_

" _They just announced this morning, it's all over campus, President Dalton just named her as Secretary Marsh's replacement. She was my favorite professor when I was an undergrad. I can't believe it, I know the Secretary of State!"_

_Henry couldn't believe it either. Not because he thought she couldn't do the job, he was quite certain she'd be perfect for it. It was just that it wasn't every day someone gets promoted from political science professor to being fourth in line for the presidency._

_And yet, the more he thought about it, the more he couldn't help but smile at the thought of Elizabeth Adams getting the chance to become Secretary Adams._

" _Hello? Professor McCord? Anybody home?" Amy asked breaking him out of his day dreaming. "Did you hear what I said?"_

_Henry couldn't help but laugh. Amy's excitement was practically contagious. "I heard, Amy it's unbelievable, but it is awesome news. Although, she does still have to be confirmed by the senate."_

" _Have you ever heard her speak? She'll demolish anyone who dares say that she wouldn't be perfect for this job."_

_Henry told her he agreed that Elizabeth would ace her confirmation hearing. "But what's this you say about Dr. Adams being your favorite professor?"_

" _Sorry, Professor McCord, but if Mr. Perfect, Blake Moran, hadn't won the job last year, you'd be talking to Professor Adams's TA right now. Not that I'm bitter or anything, I mean, you make a great second choice," Amy teased him._

_Henry smiled. He understood, because he couldn't help but think that he'd rather work for Elizabeth Adams too._

_After Amy left his office, Henry found himself reading every news story about Elizabeth Adams that he could get his hands on. He couldn't get her out of his head. He had read all the hard news articles he could find on the day of the announcement, and the next day he began reading the features._

_He'd noticed that the narrative regarding Elizabeth seemed to be changing course throughout that day. While most social media posts so far had been calling her a mystery, they were now changing their tune. Elizabeth was being labeled as "brave," an "inspiration," and a "survivor."_

_A sense of panic was starting to rise in Henry. Those adjectives were not often assigned to one who has lived a calm and happy life. It was with that growing fear he clicked on one particular editorial that seemed to be going viral:_ "Who is Elizabeth Adams Really?"

Elizabeth Adams is a rare bona fide mystery in Washington.

Adams has never held public office, and her nomination to replace Vincent Marsh as Secretary of State has many Americans, including many top politicians and advisors, scratching their heads.

But who is Elizabeth Adams really?

The answers to that question don't come easily being that many years of her professional history are shrouded in the mystery that is the Central Intelligence Agency.

Tragically, something we do know is that Adams's personal life is one steeped in loss, and one can assume, heartbreak.

In 1968 Adams was born to Benjamin and Suzanne Adams who, much like their daughter did years later, found love while attending the University of Virginia.

After graduating UVA, Benjamin and Suzanne remained in Charlottesville, Virginia to raise their children, Elizabeth and William Adams.

Then, in 1983, when Elizabeth Adams was only 15 years old, her parents suffered a grievous fate. They were driving the streets of Charlottesville with their son in the back seat when a drunk driver forced them off the road. While William Adams survived the crash, Benjamin and Suzanne both died at the scene.

Most of us cannot imagine the pain that Elizabeth Adams felt from becoming an orphan at 15 years old. Yet despite this painful experience, Adams continued to excel academically. After being placed in the care of an aunt, Adams transferred to Houghton Hall Boarding School and graduated as their valedictorian in 1985. Just two years after what one can assume was the worst day of a young Elizabeth Adams's life, she was able to follow in her parents' footsteps and began attending UVA.

While there, she met Gregory Adams, then Gregory Miller. And yes, in case you were wondering, Gregory Adams did in fact take his wife's last name, adding to the copious mysteries surrounding the Adams family. And no, we don't mean Morticia and Gomez.

In another parallel to the lives of Benjamin and Suzanne Adams, Elizabeth and Gregory Adams remained in Virginia to raise a daughter and a son. The couple moved to McLean, Virginia just outside of Washington. As many of us are aware by now, Elizabeth Adams worked for the CIA before returning to her alma mater to teach political science.

What many of us didn't know, and what the Dalton administration has remained surprisingly silent about, are the circumstances of the late Gregory Adams's death...

_Henry couldn't read anymore. He barely knew Elizabeth Adams, but he felt as though his heart was breaking for her._

_He had no idea about all of the suffering and loss that she had experienced. All of the times he had seen her speak on campus she had always seemed so full of hope. He had no idea how she did it._

_Henry hated the article, but he knew why so many people had read it, and he couldn't blame anyone who had experienced similar losses if they felt inspired that someone who might understand them would be placed in such a high position of power._

_But the author of this article was treating her pain as though it were a spectacle. As if the American people had a right to know every detail of the traumas she had experienced in her life just because she was about to become a public figure. And Henry couldn't stand it._

* * *

2023 (Present Day):

As Henry was getting ready for his meeting with President Adams, he couldn't help but think about the famous editorial that "uncovered the truth about Elizabeth Adams," as so many had claimed. Obviously, since she had announced her candidacy nearly four years ago, there had been many more articles speculating about the life of Elizabeth Adams. And Henry still couldn't stand them.

Even if the facts were technically true and not some wild conspiracy theory, he didn't want to learn about her that way. It didn't seem fair that the whole world felt entitled to her story.

It seemed that she had been in the public eye long enough now that the public no longer regarded her as a mystery. That wasn't the case for Henry. Sure, he'd eventually heard a great deal about her life second-hand, but even all these years later, that wasn't enough for Henry. Elizabeth Adams was the only one Henry ever wanted to hear Elizabeth Adams's story from.

Logically, he knew that unfair articles and social media posts were simply the price they all had to pay for freedom of speech, and admittedly, it didn't bother him as much when other politicians and public figures faced the same scrutiny.

But Elizabeth Adams wasn't just any other politician. Not to him.


	3. Piece of the Puzzle

Elizabeth's meeting with her chief of staff was now threatening to run long. She was doing her best to focus her attention on Jay's words, but part of her mind was drifting to thoughts of her upcoming meeting with Dr. McCord.

Elizabeth was finding this to be unsettling. She was never this distracted in a meeting unless she was thinking about matters of national security or the wellbeing of her children. She couldn't figure out why Dr. McCord had such a strong presence in her mind at the moment. She'd never even had a conversation with him that wasn't about catching terrorists. He was just another government worker. Or, at least, he should have been.

 _Maybe it's guilt for forgetting his name?_ Elizabeth wondered. _Maybe it's fascination with and empathy for a fellow former spy who had also been dragged into the spotlight? Or maybe it was something else._

Whatever the reason, Elizabeth couldn't stop herself from constantly checking her watch. A problem that didn't go unnoticed by Jay.

"Ma'am is everything okay?"

He'd startled Elizabeth with his sudden change of topic. Sheepishly, she looked up at him and told him, "I have a— an important lunch meeting today. Can we finish this up this afternoon?"

Jay was thrown by his boss's distracted behavior, and her slight yet still uncharacteristic trip over her words did nothing to alleviate his fears that something serious was brewing in the president's mind. With a hint of uncertainty, he responded, "Of course, ma'am. I can come back after lunch." With a nod, he left the office and thanked her for her time.

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief that she could spend the last two minutes before her meeting with Dr. McCord alone. No one else but Jay had to see her acting so unlike herself.

She didn't have any specific belief in a higher power, but she was silently thanking whoever it was that had prevented Mike B. from seeing her like this. She never would have heard the end of it.

She felt a bit guilty that she had just lied to Jay. Although, she had told far bigger lies before, especially during her spy days. Then again, maybe it wasn't a lie. For better or worse this meeting _was_ important, maybe not for matters of national security, but to her it was important. She guessed that mattered too. She just wished she could figure out _why_ it mattered so much to her.

Her mind was spinning. The more she thought about it the more she wondered if it _was_ important for national security. If Conrad thought she needed an ethics advisor, that mattered. Didn't it?

Elizabeth had intended to return to her study to wait for Dr. McCord, but she ended up pacing the small hallway between the Oval Office and her private dining room.

She wondered if Dr. McCord was already in the building. With his career history, he seemed like he'd be the type to be not just on time but early for things. Not the professor part, they unfortunately had a bit of a reputation for being a bit chaotic and caught up in their own world. But a military man would be on time, right?

Elizabeth couldn't wait to see how those two disparate stereotypes would play out in Dr. McCord. _What kind of personality does a theologian-marine have?_

Then she thought, _oh my God I'm losing it!_ She couldn't even remember the last time someone was late for a meeting with her. She was the president for crying out loud.

She tried to calm herself down. She didn't want Blake to show up to tell her Dr. McCord was here and have him catch her pacing outside her study.

She quickly turned and ducked into her private bathroom. She braced her hands on the counter and faced herself in the mirror.

She sighed. She'd only been at this job for two years now, but it is true what they say. This job ages you. She could see it in the lines on her face.

The last time Dr. McCord had seen her in person was when she had been the secretary of state. She wondered if he would notice how much older she looked. And for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she cared.

Elizabeth jumped when a knock on the door startled her off her train of thought.

Blake's voice came through the door. "Ma'am, Dr. McCord is waiting for you in your dining room."

"Okay, thanks. I'll be right there."

Elizabeth took a deep breath. It was time.

Dr. McCord turned to face her as she entered her dining room.

When she saw him she felt her breath catch. Fortunately, it wasn't audible, and Elizabeth believed she was able to hide her rising panic. With an expertly cordial facade of a diplomat and a spy, Elizabeth greeted him. "Good afternoon, Dr. McCord. Welcome back to the White House. If you would just excuse me for one moment, I need to take care of one more thing and then I'll be back. Okay? Great."

Elizabeth hadn't even left Henry time to answer before she was back out the door. For his part, Henry was stunned. The moment he'd been waiting for since Dalton had set up this meeting had arrived, and it wasn't exactly what he'd expected, but he wasn't going to let that shake him. She was the president after all; she had a lot going on. He had faith that she'd be back soon enough.

Elizabeth closed the dining room door behind her calmly, and then she rushed into her study and shut that door too. She yanked open her desk drawer and pulled out her personal phone.

From the moment she'd seen Dr. McCord's face, she not only felt panic rising, but anger as well. She felt like she should have known this was what was happening. _How could I not see it?_ Elizabeth wondered, furious at herself.

Conrad's weird behavior should have been the final clue. This was why she hadn't been able to get this meeting out of her head since she read his note. This was why she had been pacing moments ago.

It just wasn't until she saw the look on Dr. McCord's face that she put the final piece of the puzzle together. His eyes had lit up when he saw her. And it was true she had seen that thousands of times. People loved meeting the president. But it didn't take a trained interrogator to see the difference between that and the look she just saw in Dr. McCord's eyes.

His eyes were softer, and in a split second they had been able to break through the wall of her presidential persona. They weren't simply admiring a celebrity. The joy in his eyes held a deeper meaning than that.

It was why when she finally got through to the person she'd been trying to reach on her phone, the first words out of her mouth weren't pleasantries. They were, "Conrad Joseph Dalton, so help me, did you go to all of this effort to set me up," and she paused for a moment, still in shock, "on a _date_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Future updates probably won't be happening quite this quickly, but I'm excited about the next few chapters :)


	4. Conrad's Fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A piece of background info: While the first lady is usually the president's wife, if the president is not married at the time of their presidency they can choose another family member or a friend to be their first lady or first gentleman who will serve as the host of the White House (and serve as an advocate for any causes they may want to support)

_When she finally got through to the person she'd been trying to reach on her phone, the first words out of her mouth weren't pleasantries. They were, "Conrad Joseph Dalton, so help me, did you go to all of this effort to set me up," and she paused for a moment, still in shock, "on a_ date _?"_

Conrad sighed. "Bess—"

"Oh my God," Elizabeth cut him off. She didn't need any more confirmation than that.

"How did you imagine this would go once I figured it out? I'm going to go ahead and give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you knew I would figure it out." She almost hadn't. But there was no way in hell she was going to tell him that.

Conrad tried to answer, but she cut him off again before he could get a word out.

"And what exactly were you trying to pull with that phony-ass briefing booklet of yours? A note hidden between four blank pages? For Christ's sake, Hope could have figured that one out!"

"That was secure. I had Lucy drop it off directly."

"Luce—what?! Lucy doesn't work for you anymore. She doesn't even work in this building anymore."

Conrad knew Elizabeth would be angry, but he thought the set-up was worth the risk of facing her ire. He'd decided when he came up with this plan that Bess's potential happiness far outweighed however mad at him she'd be. Conrad would gladly take this metaphorical bullet for her. God knows Bess and her family had taken more than their fair share of those for him throughout the years.

Conrad did have answers for the questions she had already asked. He had imagined that it would go something like this, and as for his subpar tradecraft, it was merely a joke that he'd used to fill his days in retirement with. He believed that one day she'd eventually look back on it and laugh. Appreciate its whimsy.

For him, this wasn't about forcing her into anything. He knew she wouldn't see it that way, and he understood why. But truthfully, all he'd hoped to gain from this first meeting was to plant a seed in their minds, and if anything should blossom from it, then that would be entirely up to Bess and Henry to discover for themselves.

They were both the kindest, most brilliant and compassionate people he knew. He believed that they could be happy together. That they could each make the other happy.

"Bess, I think we both know that you're not asking the question you really want to ask."

He was right, and Elizabeth knew it. None of those questions mattered as much as her next one. "How could you do this without even asking me?"

And there it was. The heart of the argument.

"I'm sorry, Bess, I just want you to be happy."

 _He just wants me to be happy?_ Elizabeth questioned. And to think, she had believed that Conrad Dalton the president was unpredictable at times. It seemed that President Dalton had nothing on folk-singer Dalton.

Elizabeth was about to respond, but it was Conrad who cut _her_ off this time. "And don't give me that 'I am happy' crap. I know the job and I know you. We both know you didn't sign up for this job to be happy. You wanted to make the world a better place. It's a noble cause, Bess, but you don't have to let it prevent you from finding joy."

"I don't need a boyfriend to find joy in my life," Elizabeth snapped back at him.

"Maybe not, but the job takes a toll on you. You need someone to support you and stand with you through it all."

"I have a family."

"I know that, but Alison's off jet-setting around the world starting her fashion career, and Jason's… well let's face it, Bess he's Jason. There's just no other word for it."

Elizabeth smiled painfully at Conrad's joke. There was a tiny bit of truth to what he was saying. She knew her kids loved her more than anything, but they did have their own lives now.

Elizabeth wasn't giving up the fight that easily, though. "I have Hope."

"I mean human support, Bess."

"I have Evelyn."

"Yes, and I know how much your mother-in-law means to you—everything she has done for you. And she is an admirable first lady, but…" Conrad trailed off, he didn't want to say it, but he knew Elizabeth was smart enough to realize where this conversation was going. Whether it was two or six more years, her life would go on after her presidency, Hope and Evelyn wouldn't be around forever, and by that time, her children would be even more ensconced in the independent lives they were building for themselves.

"I know," Elizabeth said, now feeling sad in addition to angry. "Next time, just talk to me first, instead of going behind my back."

"I'm sorry. I just didn't think you'd listen."

He was right. She wouldn't have. "Regardless, it's still my life. And I know you know this better than anyone, but despite all the power that people think I have, there's so much I don't actually have control over. But it is my right to control this, okay?"

"You got it, Bess. I am sorry. I just wanted to help. Please, go easy on him."

She wished him farewell and ended the call. She understood that Conrad was trying to help her, even though his methods were incredibly misguided. She was still angry, but she would forgive him. Eventually.

Elizabeth paused for a moment outside the dining room door in an attempt to quell her frustration a bit. She knew she'd have to go back to her lunch and face Dr. McCord—or maybe she should call him Henry, seeing as how they were on a "date," she wondered facetiously.

She couldn't believe it. Of all the ridiculous crap she thought might happen once she became president, she never thought a secret blind date set up by her predecessor would be on the list.

And now she had a problem.

Elizabeth opened the door. Henry rushed to stand up, but Elizabeth motioned for him to keep his seat.

She joined him at the table while she quickly tried to map out a game plan in her head for how to proceed. But her phone call with Conrad had left her emotionally exhausted, and she simply didn't have it in her to push down all the anger she was feeling.

"Look, I don't know what kind of games you and Conrad are playing, but I know, okay? I figured it out. And I'm sorry, I don't know what he told you or, God forbid, if he promised you anything, but I'm not interested, you got that?"

Henry looked absolutely crushed at her seemingly sudden hostility, and a wave of guilt washed over Elizabeth. And for the first time that afternoon—for the first time in their lives—Elizabeth saw Henry. She _really_ saw him. She saw past their titles and their jobs. She saw all of the emotions that crossed his face. She saw the depth that was there. He wasn't just an operative, an author, or a colleague whom she barely knew. He was a real person, sitting in front of her with a look of hurt and regret. She saw Henry, not "Dr. McCord."

In that moment, Elizabeth's anger began to subside. And now it was her turn to be filled with regret. Maybe she was a little too harsh with him. But she needed him to know that she did not approve of two men manipulating her into a date she had absolutely no time for or interest in.

Meanwhile, Henry couldn't help but think that maybe he should just walk away, maybe he should give up. After all, she clearly wanted nothing to do with him. But he couldn't resist asking her about it. He had to know why, because it really made no sense. He could understand if she simply didn't want him for the job, but he couldn't wrap his head around why she seemed so furious at the mere notion of it.

He approached the matter with extreme caution, not wanting to anger her any further. Tentatively, he simply asked, "So you don't want to hire me?"

"No. Look, I'm sorry, but I don't want to," and that's when she paused. His words sank in. Her anger had dissipated and was now replaced with utter confusion. "Hire you?"

It sounded like a question the way she finished her sentence. And Henry was confused right along with her. "Yeah, I asked President Dalton if he could get me a meeting with you so I could try to convince you to let me be one of your advisors. I thought you said you knew."

Elizabeth didn't know what to think. She was overwhelmed with a sense of relief. She wasn't going to have to turn this man down for a date after all. But now she was beginning to panic again. _Crap, he must think I'm a lunatic_ , she thought. Practically yelling at a man she barely knew, just because he dared to try to ask her for a job he was perfectly qualified for.

"Oh," she began uncertain of how to backpedal out of the mess she'd caused— the mess Conrad had caused for her, really. "Sorry, I thought—you know what? It doesn't matter what I thought."

"Okay," Henry responded hesitantly, unsure what to make of that.

Fortunately, Elizabeth continued and Henry could see that her demeanor had shifted again. "I'm sorry, I haven't really been thinking about adding a new advisor position, but I'll tell you what, I'll give you the rest of this lunch to try to convince me. I think it might be the least I owe you."

At that, Henry gave her a genuine smile. His eyes lit up again, and Elizabeth noticed a sparkle of hope in them this time, just at the thought of getting to talk to her for another half an hour. And God help her, Elizabeth felt butterflies in her stomach when she saw that look on Henry's face. Butterflies she hadn't felt in over 20 years.

She didn't know what to make of it. She was well aware that her control of her emotions was slipping, and the only complete thought she could seem to come up with was, _God damn it, Conrad. This is all your fault._

Elizabeth was scared. If Henry could make her feel this way even while she was determined to prove Conrad wrong—if Henry could make her feel this way with just one smile—how on Earth was she going to make it through the rest of lunch with this man?


	5. Wait

_Elizabeth was scared. If Henry could make her feel this way even while she was determined to prove Conrad wrong—if Henry could make her feel this way with just one smile—how on Earth was she going to make it through the rest of lunch with this man?_

The conversation flowed easily for the next 25 minutes. They talked a bit about the Dalton administration, but mostly they found themselves reminiscing about UVA, their respective research, the things they missed the most, and the things they missed the least about their time as professors there. But they both clearly had a mutual love for their alma mater.

Elizabeth couldn't believe she'd forgotten how much she missed this. Having a normal conversation with someone. Just being able to talk like two regular human beings who have a somewhat shared history. No politics, no games, and no tradecraft. Just memories, and laughter, and dare she say it, fun.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked after a couple moments of comfortable silence.

"What's what?" Henry asked in return.

"You have that look on your face, like you want to ask me something, but you're not sure if you should. Come on, spill it," she demanded.

And how could he possibly refuse that? Henry finally relented, "You don't remember me do you?"

Elizabeth was surprised. With how nervous he seemed, she thought he wanted to ask her if he'd made any progress in convincing her to hire him. She didn't know what to make of this question. Without knowing his motives, she figured all she could offer him was the complete truth.

"Well honestly, I thought your name sounded familiar when my assistant told me I'd be meeting you today. He gave me the rundown of your resume, and I'm a bit embarrassed that I didn't recognize your name immediately. But I've just met so many people since I became secretary of state, and even more since I've become the president. And, it's just, sometimes that whole part of my life from before I became president seems like another lifetime."

Elizabeth hadn't been able to look Henry in the eye as she admitted that last part. She'd never told anyone that before, and now here she was telling someone who was practically a stranger. But that was the thing about Henry. He should have felt like a stranger, this was their first real conversation, but part of her felt like they were more than strangers. Their paths to where they found themselves today seemed to be intertwined in ways she felt as though she were only just beginning to understand.

"Eventually, I remembered who you were when he reminded me of some of your ops." At that, Henry's face fell, and she realized, "That's not what you meant though, was it?"

"Uh, no," Henry replied, feeling completely dejected. He didn't know why he thought there might be a chance she'd remember him. Yet, he still needed to ask again, just to be sure, "So, I didn't look familiar at all to you?"

"Well I remember the intelligence briefings. And I was watching from the Sit Room when the Covenant of John member was holding a knife to your throat in Bolivia, and when we were all waiting to see if Murphy's Station was going to make the transport we had arranged for you in Pakistan, but I'm sorry, that's all. There's something else, though, isn't there? Did we meet before that?"

"Yeah uh, I thought it would be a long shot that you'd remember, but I sat two seats down from you in Professor Stuart's Introduction to Religion in the Middle East class at UVA."

Elizabeth was amazed, and touched. There were a lot of people who liked to claim things like that these days. Many people who wanted her attention threw around references to chance meetings with her or something like the fact that they went to the same boarding school in order to soak up some of her fame. Most of the time it was harmless, unless those people also happened to want something from her.

But in this moment, with Henry looking at her like she'd broken his heart just a little by not remembering him, it felt different. "And you remembered me? All this time later? You remember where we sat?"

That was new, that specific detail. That was what was different from everyone else. And she could see it in his eyes that he wasn't lying or making this up.

Elizabeth knew what that piece of information meant. Those details meant that Henry wasn't grasping at straws to remember something in hindsight just because she was powerful and famous now. It was something that he could have only really remembered if she had meant something more to him than the title she held now. It was something he only could have remembered if she held some sort of significance to him back then. Elizabeth could see it in his eyes that the young 18-year-old version of herself was the one who had shaped his first impression of her.

The weight of that revelation felt important. Significant. All she could hear in her head was Blake's voice, _you go way back_.

"I'm sorry is that weird or creepy? I just—you were impressive and hard to forget. Even back then."

"No," Elizabeth was quick to reassure him—maybe a bit too quick. "It's not creepy." Perhaps it might have been coming from someone else, but it didn't feel that way with Henry. She looked into his eyes trying to communicate that she was being honest when she said, "It's actually kind of sweet."

The smile that he saw on her face when she told him that was everything to Henry. He thought it was adorable, but somehow also carried an air of mischievousness with it. Henry couldn't help but think that if that's what happiness looked like on her face, he wanted to do anything he could to make her smile like that every time he saw her. It melted away his fears and helped him relax. She might not have remembered him, but at least he didn't scare her away with his question. That was something. Wasn't it?

It gave him the courage to ask the other question he wanted to ask now that their time was almost up. "So, did I manage to convince you?"

"Convince me?" Elizabeth asked. Rational thought had escaped her for the time being. She was still lost in the moment she had just shared with Henry.

"To add another advisor position."

That's when Elizabeth snapped back into reality. Her heart sank. She forgot that's why he was there. For a job. How could she let herself forget that that was what Henry's goal for the meeting had been? He was completely clueless as to what Conrad's secret motives were. And at the end of the day, it wasn't about what Conrad's intentions were. The only thing that mattered was what Henry wanted. And that was a job. Wasn't it?

Elizabeth couldn't escape the feeling that Henry saw her as more than a potential employer, but all she really had to go on was his word. Because what if she had imagined that he wanted anything else—anything more. What if she was only seeing what she was beginning to want to see. That—as much as she hated to admit it—maybe Conrad had a point. Maybe it could be possible for her to fall for someone else. Maybe a person who had experienced the kind of loss that she had could be able to fall in love again. Maybe 54 wasn't too late to start over.

So, now she had a decision to make. Did she want to hire Henry and risk falling for someone she could never ethically be with? Or did she want to turn him down and risk never seeing him again if the job was really all he wanted from her?

Thankfully, she spent years as secretary of state learning every strategy and tactic one could ever need for delaying potential threats, maintaining peace, and keeping her options open for the future.

Putting on her best diplomat face, Elizabeth answered his question. "I'm sorry, Dr. McCord, but I'm not prepared to add a new advisor position at this time."

To his credit, he did a much better job this time hiding how sad he was to hear she didn't want to hire him. But Elizabeth could still see it. And God damn it, it shattered her to do that to him.

"I understand. Thank you for your time."

They both stood, Henry shaking her hand as he was about to leave. And in that moment Elizabeth couldn't deny it. She didn't want to let go. The handshake was longer than strictly professional, her fingers grazing his as their hands slid apart.

Henry made his way to the exit, and the moment his hand clasped the handle prepared to open the door and walk out of her life, was the moment she caved.

"Wait!" She called to him, rushing over to where he was standing in an attempt to ensure that he wouldn't be able to leave just yet.

But there was no way Henry would have been able to leave, he couldn't even move—couldn't even breathe. He'd frozen in his place the moment he heard the word "wait" leave her mouth. It could have been innocent, she could have simply forgotten to mention something or ask him something, maybe he left something on the table, but it felt like more than that. There was a desperation in her voice that he had never heard from her before, and it knocked his world out of alignment.

And then he felt her standing behind him. And again she said, "wait." As if he would go anywhere. As if he wouldn't have followed her instructions the first time. As if he could ever have thought about leaving when she wanted him to stay.

Her second "wait" was softer. It was almost as though she was pleading with him, begging him not to go. And Henry's head was reeling. What had changed? Did she decide she did want to hire him after all? But how could that be the case when her voice sounded the way it just had. Because even without seeing her eyes, he could feel a sense of vulnerability in just that one word, _wait_.

And then he felt her hand on his shoulder. She was right behind him, and she was gripping his shoulder like she was afraid of the thought of him walking away from her.

And then he turned around. He wondered when the last time she let anyone get this close to her was. When the last time she had ever shared that much of herself with anyone was. The look in her eyes was so pure. Henry recognized it as a look of longing, but he never dreamed he would see it on this woman's face. And he certainly never dreamed he would see it directed at him.

"Can I ask you one more question?" she wanted to know.

"Anything."

"From our conversation—you just seem to love being a professor so much. Why would you want to give it up? Why do you want this job?"

Without hesitation he answered, "Because I knew from the moment I first heard you speak that you were brilliant. You were a freshman in that class and you could tear down any senior's argument with just a look. I was in awe of you back then, but it's nothing compared to what you're capable of now. You have saved countless lives. God knows how many times you've saved the entire planet from nuclear war. Who wouldn't want to work for you?

Madam President, you aren't the most powerful person in the world because of your title, you earned your title because you were already the most powerful person in the world. And you didn't get here through schemes and lies. You got here because you have an unparalleled ability to win people over with the brilliance of your mind, and more importantly, the kindness in your heart. You lead with more compassion and grace than anyone who has ever held this office before you."

Elizabeth was now the one who was in awe of Henry. It was the kindest thing anyone had said to her in such a long time, and she could honestly feel that he meant every word of it.

"I can't hire you. I don't want... I - I - I..." She was stammering now, at a complete loss for words.

And then he felt her lips meet his.


	6. Worth It

" _I can't hire you. I don't want... I - I - I..." She was stammering now, at a complete loss for words._

_And then he felt her lips meet his._

Elizabeth was tentative at first, but she deepened the kiss once she felt Henry respond to it.

They were both out of practice. But Henry never imagined he'd get the chance to kiss Elizabeth Adams, so he sure as hell wasn't going to waste it. He wrapped his hands around to the small of her back as she wrapped hers around to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to her.

Elizabeth kissed him until she was out of breath. She began to pull away, and Henry couldn't stop smiling.

Henry opened his eyes just before Elizabeth opened hers. And he saw the exact moment when she'd realized what she'd done—the exact moment when the reality of the rest of the world outside of this room sank back in. In a flash, the look in her eyes had gone from peace and joy to complete horror.

Instinctively, she jumped away from him, and backed up as far she could go until she hit the table behind her. Her hands flew to her head in distress, and she appeared to be having trouble breathing.

Henry wasn't sure it was the right course of action, but his instincts were telling him to comfort her. He rushed to her, calmly collected her hands in his and returned them to waist-level.

"Hey," he began in what he prayed was a soothing voice, "it's okay. You're okay."

Without warning, she flung herself at him again. Only this time, instead of a kiss, she wrapped her arms around him and began sobbing into his shoulder.

Henry responded the only way he could think of. He wrapped his arms around her in kind and gently rubbed her back as her tears began to dampen his shirt.

Eventually, she began to calm down, and she slowly pulled away from him again. She still seemed to be in shock from what happened, but he was fairly confident that what appeared to have been a panic attack was subsiding.

Once again, he tried to comfort her. He gently lifted her chin so that her eyes would meet his and she would be able to see his sincerity. "Elizabeth—" he paused, realizing what he'd said, "Can I call you Elizabeth?"

All that she was able to manage in response was a breathy, "Okay."

"Elizabeth, I don't know what you're thinking or feeling right now, but whatever it is, it's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

Elizabeth's breathing was finally stabilizing enough for her to speak. "I'm the president of the United States, Dr. McCord. I can't be kissing someone."

If the situation were different, he might find it amusing that the president had given him permission to call her by her first name while she was still calling him Dr. McCord. But it was impossible for him to find joy while she was hurting.

"Please, call me Henry."

"Henry," she began, and he could have sworn that his knees would have gone weak at the sound of Elizabeth saying his given name if he weren't already clinging to every ounce of strength he had in order to comfort her in this moment, "how are you so calm right now?"

There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, but more than anything she wanted to know that—she needed to know it. She'd never admit it, but she needed to know where he was getting his strength in this moment. After all, she couldn't imagine how distressing it must be to have been kissed by the president of the United States. And come to think of it, it also probably wasn't a pleasant feeling to have been kissed by someone who then immediately began to have a panic attack.

She needed to know what he was thinking, and just maybe, a bigger part of her than she'd care to admit needed to know what he was feeling too.

"Well, honestly, at first I was ecstatic, but now I just need to know that you're okay."

Elizabeth was amazed. Here she was standing in front of him, a complete mess, she'd ruined his day and acted wildly inappropriately, and all he cared about was whether or not she was okay. _How could he be so kind?_

There were so many ways she could have responded, but she couldn't help but ask, "Why?"

Henry had no idea why it was so hard to believe. "' _Why?_ '" he repeated back to her. "Because I care about you."

"You care about me?"

"Yes, is that so hard to believe?"

"Well, honestly, yeah." Elizabeth was stunned. She knew she had people who cared about her. Her family cared about her. Her staff cared about her. Conrad and Lydia cared about her. Her Secret Service agents—well they mostly just cared about keeping her alive. But who was Henry McCord to be caring about her?

And now it was Henry's turn to ask, "Why?"

"We barely know each other."

"Elizabeth, I meant what I said earlier. I've seen the way you lead. And I happen to know some of the lengths you have gone to to protect and save people you have never even met. You spend your days figuring out the best ways to care for everyone else on the planet. So, please, believe me. I care about you. You are a wonderful and kind person. You deserve to be cared about."

His words were meant to be comforting, but Elizabeth tensed when she heard them. Now all she wanted to know was how the hell Henry McCord could read her so well? How was it possible that after just one lunch meeting he seemed to have the ability to stare straight into her soul and find her biggest insecurities? And how did he know the exact, perfect thing to say to her?

"Please, tell me, are you okay?"

Her first instinct was to lie. For a former spy, Elizabeth was _usually_ a rather honest person—to a fault if you asked Mike B., but the one lie Elizabeth had always told without fail was, "I'm fine." But she couldn't lie to Henry, not because she didn't want to, but because she knew he wouldn't buy it.

"No, I'm not okay. But you already know that. What's the point in asking?"

"I'm sorry, I guess it just seemed like the right thing to say. So, how _do_ you feel?"

"Well I'm not gonna lie, I don't know how I feel."

"Then how about this, can you tell me why you can't hire me?" Henry believed he already knew what she meant before, but he needed to hear her say it.

Elizabeth knew exactly what information he was angling for, and she'd already realized today that Henry could read her like a book, but telling the truth on this one was a bridge too far. "I told you, I'm not prepared to add a new advisor position at this time."

As much as he wanted to respect her feelings, and as much as he hated to admit it, her diplomatic obfuscation was starting to drive him crazy. Doing his best to tamp down his desperation, he begged her, "You also said you weren't gonna lie to me. Elizabeth, please, tell me why you can't hire me."

Those were the words she heard him say, but his eyes were saying, _I know you know why I'm asking this._

Finally, she couldn't avoid the truth any longer. She relented, but she still refused to look him in the eye as she admitted, "I can't hire you, because I like you."

And the pain he saw on her face as she admitted that killed him. Even before he'd formally met her, he'd always felt a desire to protect her. He couldn't stand the fact that she was in pain right now because of him. But he understood. To say her job was stressful was understatement, and the situation they've found themselves in was extremely complicated.

Henry desperately wanted to find some way to reassure her. Some way to convince her to accept was happening. Some way to help her believe that everything really would be okay.

More than anything he wanted to tell her that he liked her too, but he was afraid that would only scare her more. So he did the next best thing. He pulled her into another hug, and as he held her, he simply said, "I understand."

He understood why this was something that was so hard for her to admit—why this was something that was so hard for her to experience.

She let him hug her, but despite the comfort he was providing, his words frustrated her, and before she could think, she snapped at him. She stared him down as she asked, "I haven't felt this way since I lost my husband 21 years ago. How could you possibly understand?"

And that's when he broke. Just a little. But it was enough for her to see the pain her question had caused him. And she realized instantly that she should have known better. She knew he had a daughter, and she knew he wasn't married. She had no right to assume her loss was worse than his.

Once again, Henry showed her grace and acceptance at her emotional outburst. Calmly and kindly, he told her, "I'm sorry. I know I don't understand everything you've been through, but I lost my wife 15 years ago, and believe me, I haven't felt this way about anyone since either."

Elizabeth looked away from Henry again. As much as he had been desperate for her to admit that she liked him, she was desperate to avoid hearing him say those words back. She didn't think she could handle anything that would make this moment more real.

"I'm sorry too," she responded. "I know you know what it's like to lose someone, but you can't possibly imagine the scrutiny I am under. What I eat for breakfast is a matter of public record. How do you think people are going to react when they find out that the president has kissed someone?"

"Elizabeth, I know we don't know each other _that_ well, but with all due respect, I've seen you talk to Russell Jackson enough times to know you care far more about doing what's right than you care about optics."

"But is this 'what's right,' Henry?"

"Tell me, what's wrong about it? It's not a scandal. Neither of us are married. I've never worked here during your administration."

"I know, I know. But just because something isn't unethical doesn't make it right."

Henry took a beat. He couldn't hold it in any longer, and he needed to find the best words to tell her. He gently lifted his hand and brushed one of her tears away with his thumb as he rested his palm against the side of her cheek.

"You're right. What makes this right is that we both like each other. And we deserve to be happy. I think we owe it to ourselves to figure out if we could be the ones who could make each other happy."

"How could I possibly make you happy, Henry?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"Because—look at my life! I don't have a normal life. I have a crazy, stressful life with no time for anything but work. How could you possibly want to be a part of that?"

"Because I don't care about whatever baggage the presidency brings. I like _you_. I like Elizabeth. And I would gladly take whatever the lifestyle of President Adams would throw at me if it meant that I could be with you, Elizabeth."

"Why?"

"Because you're worth it. Any of it. All of it."

Elizabeth didn't know how to explain this to him. He wasn't getting it. He had no clue what her life was really like. He couldn't possibly know if she was worth it or not.

Henry could see she wasn't getting it either. She was the smartest and kindest woman on the planet. _How could she doubt whether she was worth it?_

"Please, just one date. That's all I ask. Let me take you out—," at the look of incredulity on her face, he quickly amended his statement, "I mean, I know you can't literally _go out,_ but we could do something here. You have a movie theater and bowling alley. Or we could have dinner. Just—one chance that's all I'm asking for. Please, Elizabeth."

Henry knew he was begging, he knew how desperate he looked, and he knew she'd probably think he was a fool, but as he'd already told her today, she was worth it.

Elizabeth stared at Henry. She had always believed that there was a fine line between desperation and hope. And while his words may have sounded desperate, all she could see was that his eyes were brimming with hope. She couldn't deny that she wanted some of that hope herself, and she couldn't deny that she wanted him because of that.

"Tomorrow night," she told him.

"What?"

"Tomorrow night. My schedule is light because my daughter was supposed to be visiting, but she had to delay her trip. I'm saying I have some time tomorrow night. I'm saying yes." Elizabeth bit her bottom lip and smiled up at him.

"Really?" Henry asked, looking like a kid on Christmas morning.

She giggled at his response. "Really."

Henry couldn't believe she said yes. He was so excited, he couldn't resist hugging her just one more time today.


	7. Happy for You

Elizabeth jumped when she opened the door of the Oval Office and found her chair spinning around to reveal Mike B. sitting at her desk.

"Damn it, Mike. Don't do that," Elizabeth reprimanded him as best she could while trying to catch her breath.

He simply looked at her as flippant as ever, asking, "Since when is Super-Spy Bess Adams so jumpy?"

"That's not funny, Mike, I've just… I've had a complicated day."

"You're the president. Saying you've had a complicated day is like saying Gordon was the best dog in the world. It's obvious," he added for clarification.

"Thanks, I got it."

"Seriously, Bess, what's got your panties in a twist?"

"No one—I mean—nothing. You know, you're getting worse with these comments lately."

"Uh huh, and you're deflecting. So whose 'no one?'"

"'No one' is no one," she told him, hoping it would put an end to this conversation for now. His impertinent glare told her that she could only wish she'd be so lucky. She tried a different tactic. "'No one,' is classified."

Of course, "no one" was Henry, and he wasn't classified for national security reasons at the moment, but right now, he was definitely classified for personal reasons.

Elizabeth knew she would barely be able to handle this conversation once. She had to wait until Jay arrived. And despite her slip a moment ago, she was just as good a spy as Mike was a lawyer. There was no way he was going to get this information out of her even one second before she was ready.

She was fully prepared to stall Mike for as long as she needed. "You know, this whole stealing my chair thing was mildly amusing when I was secretary of state, but I gotta say, it's wearing a bit thin now that it's the _Resolute_ desk you've co-opted."

"Hey, I was the one who got you elected, thank you very much. I figure my butt owns at least 40 percent of this chair."

"Okay, that is _so_ not how it works. Get up. Now."

"Okay, fine. I serve at the pleasure, or whatever. Anyway, do we know when Golden Boy is getting back from… what was it again?"

"His daughter's dentist appointment. He should be here any second."

And almost as if on cue, Jay walked through the door.

"Ya see?" Elizabeth asked with a smile, "There you go." But Mike had already gone back to whatever it was he had been reading when she walked in. At least he was making his way over to the couch so she could have her desk back.

"Alright, now that you're both here, I need to read you guys in on something."

"What is it, ma'am?" Jay asked, still concerned about how she'd been acting that morning.

Mike was barely paying attention, but her nerves were creeping up on her again, so it was now or never. Mike would just have to catch up when he finally realized the significance of what she was about to tell them.

"Well, it's a bit earlier than I would normally have shared something like this, but given its potential to cause problems if it gets out, I thought you should know. I have a date." She winced as she told them, hoping that they wouldn't overreact.

Jay was speechless.

Mike had only heard half of what she said.

Finally, he looked up from the report he was reading to ask her, "What are you talking about? Chef Cindy's got you eating those gross dried up prune things again?"

"What? No, could you pay attention for five minutes? I have a date tomorrow night."

"A date for what?" Mike stared at her.

She stared back, waiting for him to get it. When it finally clicked, he was just as shocked as Jay, but nothing ever left Mike B. speechless. He asked, "You mean with a person?"

"Yes, with a person. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Frankly, Bess? Yeah it is. In the entire time I've known you, you've never so much as even looked at a man that way. Oh, God, it is a man, right? Because you know I don't care, but let me tell you, the pea-brains in this country are not even remotely ready for _that_ conversation yet."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Honestly, she had no idea what she expected from him.

"Blake!" Mike shouted through the intercom on her desk phone, demanding that her assistant enter the Oval.

Reluctantly, Blake entered the office, closed the door behind him and stared Mike down. "You rang?" he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"Yeah, I need you to grab Blake 2.0 and schedule an appointment with the oppo firm for me. As soon as possible like, yesterday."

"Mike, it's one date. You are not vetting him."

"Bess, one year from today you will be kissing babies and hugging widows in New Hampshire. There's not a chance in hell we're not getting oppo for this guy. We have to know his skeletons. Now."

"He doesn't have any skeletons."

"Oh, and you know this? Tell me, how long have you known this guy, huh? How did you even meet him? You live in a fortress. Tell me he is not someone who works in this building—no—tell me he is not someone who works for this government."

"He's not someone who works for this government. Anymore," she responded, mumbling the last word.

That didn't stop Mike from catching it. "Excuse me. 'Anymore?' What does that mean? Was he _fired_?"

"No, Mike. I'm not an idiot. Would you just trust me? There's nothing scandalous or salacious about this. He's just a regular man who asked me on a date, and I said yes."

"Really? A 'regular man' who is worthy of Elizabeth Adams? Who could he _possibly_ be?"

Elizabeth took a calming breath and finally revealed his name. "It's Dr. Henry McCord."

"The dorky religion guy?"

Elizabeth had been able to handle Mike's crap up to a point, but she would not tolerate him insulting Henry.

"Hey! Now I have put up with your questions because I know if this news gets out that it's going to make your job a hell of a lot more difficult, but I'm still the president. So now it's time for you to sit down, shut up, and listen. You can ask whatever questions you want about how my date could affect the administration, but under no circumstances do you get to insult his personality, got it? He is a kind and good man, whom, by the way, you could stand to learn a thing or two from. And you know what, for the first time since I lost my husband, I _like_ someone. Do you know how much this means to me?"

Not even Mike could argue with that. Well, he could with anyone else, but not Bess.

Mike sighed, "Of course I know what this means. And look, we spent six years scratching and clawing our way to the top in this town. I watched you refuse to fire your predecessor's staff out of some weird sense of loyalty to employees you barely knew. I watched you convince Dalton to give away Peter Buckley to the Russians. I watched you refuse bail in order to remain locked up in solidarity with the kids being separated from their parents in Arizona. I watched you waive executive privilege so that you could testify at _your own_ impeachment inquiry. If history has taught us anything, it's that Bess Adams is going to do whatever the hell Bess Adams wants to do. So no, I'm not _vetting_ him in any scheme to prevent you from dating. But if you like this guy like you claim to, you have to let me protect him. And you. For that, we need to figure out whatever our enemies are going to find on him, and we need to find it first."

"Really? Just like that? You're not trying to stop me?"

"Bess, I wouldn't wish what you've been through in your life on my worst enemy. Which is really saying something, because you know how much I hate my enemies. But you? You were the one who stood by me when everyone else in my life abandoned me. You were the one who decided to be my friend when everyone else hated me. You were the one who held my hand as Gordon took his last breath. Believe me, I want nothing more than for you to be happy. But you have to let me help you. And trust me, me being hard on him now is only gonna help him in the long run."

"It's only one date. No one's saying anything about there being a long run."

"What are you talking about ? Like I said, in the 21 years since you lost Greg, you've never shown any interest in dating. Why in God's name would you pick the most inconvenient time in your life to start if you don't have any interest in something long term with this guy?"

"Well that's all well and good to say, but I'm not the only one whose opinion matters in this situation." After being met with a look of confusion from Mike, Elizabeth responded in disbelief, "Okay, do you have to practice being this obtuse? _Henry_ , Mike. I'm talking about Henry."

Mike also couldn't believe what he was hearing. "' _Henry?'_ We're talking about the same Henry McCord? The one who's had a huge, obvious crush on you for forever? _That_ Henry McCord?"

"Crush? What are you talking about?"

"Come on, you mean you really haven't noticed? The three of us all worked at UVA together. He attended every single one of your speaking events on campus when he had no reason to. At all the graduations, he consistently watched you and never whoever was speaking. And you know a guy has a hopeless crush on you when he thinks you still look hot in commencement regalia. Oh and let's not forget the fall fundraiser of aught nine, when his eyes followed you around the ballroom the whole night like a lovesick puppy."

"And you're just telling me this now?!"

"What? Lots of men stare at you. How was I supposed to know that this would be the one you'd like back?"

"Conrad knew," Elizabeth informed him, feeling as though her mind was overflowing with questions about her past. She couldn't stop asking herself how she had missed this.

"What do you want me to say here? Dalton's retired. If he's the one who set you up with McCord, then it's because he's got time to kill now that he's no longer spending every waking moment of his life in the trenches battling the monsters and demons that work in this swamp town. Besides, you wouldn't even let me help you find a dog. Do you really think you would have let me help you find a _boyfriend_?"

Reluctantly, she admitted, "No, you're right. I'm sorry, I just, I'm surprised. I had no idea he liked me for so long. We were a bit busy fighting terrorism every other meeting I've had with him. And he's not my ' _boyfriend_.'"

Part of her wondered if Henry had liked her longer than even Mike knew about. What if that was why he remembered her from college?

"Speaking of which, back to the main point, do you seriously think that _Henry McCord_ would be the one who wouldn't want the long term relationship with _you_? What could he have possibly said that would make you think that?"

"He didn't say anything that would make me think that. _I_ was the one who questioned why he'd want to put up with all the craziness in my life, and he—" she paused realizing where this conversation was going, hesitant to repeat what Henry had said out loud.

"He what?" Mike pressed.

"He said I was worth it," she admitted quietly.

"Well hey," Mike said, turning to face Jay and Blake, finally acknowledging their presence again, "at least we know he has a brain."

What he was thinking was, _of course you're worth it_. But Mike really needed to pump some levity back into this conversation. Despite the fact that Bess was his best friend, he still struggled to be serious with her when he complimented her. Snark was just too ingrained in his nature.

Elizabeth still knew what he was really saying, though. She looked at him with enough sincerity for both of them as she thanked him. She then turned her attention to Jay and Blake as well. She remarked, "You two have been uncharacteristically quiet throughout this whole conversation." She'd almost forgotten they were in the room.

Normally, Jay and Blake wouldn't hesitate to speak their minds to Elizabeth as long as they believed their comments would be constructive. They both knew that she valued their honest opinions, but they'd also both been stunned by what they had just witnessed.

No one in DC fully understood the president's friendship with Mike B. Her enemies mostly believed that she was just your average corrupt politician with an even more corrupt fixer who was willing to do all her dirty work for her. Those who knew and respected her, found it hard to believe that someone as honest and kind as Elizabeth would allow Mike to speak to her let alone call her his best friend.

But that conversation that had made both Jay and Blake see something they'd never noticed before. Neither Jay or Blake had ever participated in such a personal conversation with the president before. And neither one of them was sure what shocked them the most about this meeting. The fact that the president had a date. Or the fact that, despite his rather unusual way of showing it, Mike was being supportive of her.

In the last four years, Jay and Blake had learned to trust that Mike B. cared a great deal about the president's career, but for the first time, they were both beginning to see how much he cared about her as a person too.

Jay figured it was his responsibility to break the silence, so he told her, "Well, I agree with… most of what Mike has been saying. And I want you to know that I'm grateful for your support too. I was one of those people you should have fired but didn't. You were understanding when I was going through my divorce, you were supportive when I needed more time with Chloe, hell, you even babysat her so I could go on my first real date with Annelies. What I'm saying is, I think the three of us would all walk through fire for you to support whatever or whoever," he amended with a teasing smile, "is going to make you happy."

Elizabeth smiled. Mike and Jay had had a rough start at the beginning of her campaign, but they had seemed to find a way to work together recently, and it meant the world to her that they were both agreeing to support her in this.

"Then it's settled, I guess. Blake?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Go get Nina and set up the appointment for Mike. Now it should be obvious that I want as few people to know about this as possible at this stage, but feel free to read Nina in. I know you two are gossip buddies, but I trust both of you to not let this leave this building."

"Of course, Madam President. And if I may add, I am beyond happy for you too."

"Thank you, Blake."

As Blake left to go find Nina, Elizabeth turned back to Mike and pointed out, "Oh, and by the way, Mike, regarding your little comment earlier, you do realize that I myself am a dork too?"

At that, Mike's eyes lit up with an idea. He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "You're right! And we all know dorks are taking over the world, right now. Dork is like the new chic, right? Just ask your kid, the uh, the big one, she likes all that trendy crap, doesn't she?"

"You mean _Ali?_ " Jay questioned, not at all attempting to hide his annoyance at Mike's lack of respect for the president's children, "The first daughter, who is about to begin her final semester of her master's program in international fashion business management? I think it's safe to say she keeps up with what's trending."

"Sure, whatever. The point is, we can work this to our advantage. I can see it now, _Dorks in Love_. God, the country's gonna flip when you go public with this. Honestly, who doesn't love a love story?"

"Woooah, back up," Elizabeth interrupted, "A) Even if tomorrow goes well, short of a leak, we're still a long way away from going public with this. B) No one, I repeat no one who works for me is going to ever say the "L" word again. And you can consider that a direct order. C) _If_ any possible relationship does become public knowledge, Henry is absolutely _not ever_ to be used as a pawn to score cheap political points," she stared pointedly at Mike.

"Fine, fine, but can I just say, you two are going to be forced into the limelight whether I'm out there spinning for you or not. And team… uh Benry? Hess?" Mike questioned as Elizabeth shook her head and looked at him in disgust. "Wow, you guys have no good options for your celebrity couple name. Wait no, I got it, we'll call you McAdams for now. Team McAdams _will_ be happening."

"Yeah, well that _name_ is not happening," Elizabeth informed him.

"Eh, give it a chance. It could grow on you. You know, I think I'm actually getting a bit excited about this," Mike added with a goofy smile.

Elizabeth found herself rolling her eyes once again at his antics, but on the inside, she had to admit, he wasn't the only one who was excited.


	8. Let Me Explain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I have returned from writing my finals. Thank you all so much for your continued support and your comments.

Henry was on his way to Stevie's apartment building with a bag of groceries in hand. He was so distracted from everything that had happened earlier, he hoped he remembered everything on her list.

Henry was grateful that ever since Stevie had moved out and found her own apartment, the two of them had been able to set up semi-regular Thursday night dinners. Typically that meant whenever Stevie wasn't stuck at work.

He really should've expected the situation they've found themselves in now, but it still felt a bit ironic. And even though he had been around to watch Stevie grow up, and she'd already gone off to college when Russell Jackson had shown up on his doorstep to drag him back into NSA work, this whole situation was feeling a bit too "Cat's in the Cradle" for Henry's taste.

Henry had spent six years working for the government during the Dalton administration. And he hadn't wanted to influence Stevie's decisions, but he did have to admit he was happy that she had also moved to DC when she'd transferred to Georgetown after her sophomore year at Lovell. She was already fairly independent then, but he still felt guilty that he wasn't around very often while he was doing intelligence work. But now that he was working at Georgetown and he actually had more time to spend with her, Stevie was the one who was constantly working.

Henry would be lying if he said he didn't miss public service. It was why he'd hoped that Elizabeth would be willing to hire him in some capacity. But now? He might be getting ahead of himself, but he'd gladly give up any shot at working in public service again if it meant he had a shot at a relationship with Elizabeth. Henry was still shocked that it was even a possibility. He wouldn't dare risk that or risk complicating her life any further by trying to work for any facet of the government while she was president. They couldn't risk any possible appearance of impropriety.

Henry pressed the buzzer outside Stevie's apartment building. She let him know that she had already started cooking and he could let himself in with his spare key.

"Hey, Stevie. I got the ingredients you asked for," he greeted as he entered the apartment's small front hallway.

"Thanks, Dad," she replied as her father rounded the corner into the kitchen. As she looked up from the potatoes she was peeling, Stevie saw that her father's expression seemed to be one of pure joy. Hopeful, she asked, "Oh my gosh, did you get the job?"

Stevie knew how much her dad wanted to work for President Adams, and she completely understood why. Despite the fact that she frequently disagreed with some of Elizabeth Adams's measures when she began as the secretary of state, namely going against her own article and hiring Vesuvian to protect the ambassador to Yemen, she eventually grew to highly respect then Secretary Adams. Once she had started interning for Russell, Stevie had gotten to see a sneak peak behind the scenes at how the administration was run and how the process of governing really worked.

Stevie had to admit that she really had grown to understand why her father found Elizabeth Adams so impressive. Although, she can be a bit of diva when it comes to party planning. Stevie doubted she would have made it through that particular assignment for her internship if it hadn't been for the help of Alison Adams.

Henry was so wrapped up in his own thoughts about everything that had happened with the president at their lunch meeting, it took him a minute to process what Stevie had asked. "Sorry, what? Oh that. Yeah uh no, I didn't get the job."

Stevie was confused. She knew it was probably a long shot that President Adams would suddenly add a new advisor position to her administration for someone she barely knew after just one lunch meeting, but that didn't explain why her dad seemed so happy. "You didn't get the job? Then what's with the goofy grin on your face?"

Henry heard her that time, but now he just wasn't quite sure how to respond. He still couldn't wipe his smile off his face, and he knew his daughter was far too curious to accept anything less than the truth. Despite his years of intelligence work, his daughter always seemed to know when he was hiding something. "We kissed," was all he offered as an answer. He was still a bit lost in his own thoughts.

Stevie could tell that his half-thought-out answer was probably the result of her dad's mind wandering, and now she was more than confused, she was concerned. Her father was hardly ever this distracted by something that wasn't work related, and to her knowledge, he hadn't kissed anyone in years, "You kissed someone? Who did you kiss? The lady that's always flirting with you at the supermarket? I told you—"

"What? No not her," Henry responded, interrupting Stevie. Then he paused. He was hesitant. He wasn't sure how Stevie would react to the news of how his lunch meeting ended. Truth be told, he was still processing what happened himself. He figured he might as well get it over with—rip it off like the very large band-aid that this situation was. "Elizabeth Adams and I kissed," Henry informed Stevie, not quite able to meet her gaze.

Stevie froze. She vaguely heard a clatter, but she never even felt the potato peeler leave her hand when she dropped it out of shock. If she thought she was surprised before at her dad's news that he had kissed anyone at all, that was nothing compared to how stunned she was to hear that her father had kissed the president of the United States. "YOU WHAT?!" was all she could manage at first.

She felt unsteady on her feet as she tried to process her dad's news. "Oh, God, I think I need to sit down," she said as she clung to one of the barstools next to the counter. Once seated, Stevie brought her fingertips to her forehead and rested her elbows on the counter. "Dad, _what_ in the _hell_ could you possibly have been thinking!?" Stevie yelled at him, "You went over there looking for a job, _a job_ , Dad, a freaking job!" Stevie repeated as though saying it more times was actually necessary for Henry to process the severity of what had occurred at his lunch meeting. "She's the president of the United States! For Christ's sake, you can't kiss POTUS!" She screamed, slamming her fists on the counter.

Henry cringed. He should have known her reaction was going to be this bad. His daughter really had grown to be much more outspoken after she had started working for Russell Jackson. Henry tried to demonstrate compassion and understanding at Stevie's response, but that still couldn't change how _he_ felt about what had happened with Elizabeth that afternoon. He still had a slight, soft smile on his face as he informed Stevie, "I didn't kiss her."

"What? But you just said—"

"I said 'we kissed.' I didn't say that _I_ kissed _her_." Henry looked at Stevie hoping that she would understand what he was saying.

"You're saying that _she_ kissed _you_? Alright let me get this straight, your story now, is that the president of the United States of America, Elizabeth Adams, kissed _you_?"

"Yes," Henry's smile widened ever so slightly. He thought that maybe he should be offended by his daughter's tone on the word "you," and maybe if it had been any other woman in the world who had kissed him he would have been. But they were talking about Elizabeth Adams. Henry couldn't believe what had happened at their lunch either, but that still didn't diminish any of the joy he felt regarding Elizabeth's kiss and her accepting his invitation for a date.

Stevie spent a minute taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. Once she started to wrap her brain around what her father was telling her, she couldn't help but point out, "Okay, it's just—I know it really shouldn't be anyone's business, but aside from her being _the president_ , she's like, the most infamously celibate person in the country."

"She's not a nun, Stevie. She's been married before, and she has two children."

"I know, but beside the tabloid rumors about her and Mike B., no one's ever reported any evidence of her dating since her husband died."

Henry was getting a bit frustrated with the direction this conversation was taking. It had always angered him how people felt they had a right to pry into Elizabeth's personal life. Or even make one up as Stevie had just had just mentioned. There had been lots of speculation about who Elizabeth might be secretly sleeping with throughout the years, and none of it was as persistent as the rumors about her and Mike B. It killed him to see those stories. "You're right," Henry informed her sternly, "it shouldn't be anyone's business."

Stevie looked at her dad seriously. Her blue eyes were shining intensely under the bright lights of her kitchen. Henry could see that they were filled with sympathy, and just a dash of pity as she told him, "Dad, I'm sorry. I'm just concerned about you. If it leaks that she kissed you, the press is going to have a field day with it. There will be no escaping the paparazzi, and—" Stevie paused, struggling to admit her next thought. She'd lived through enough trauma in her life that her mind had no trouble finding the worst case scenario of any situation, "there's a reason why her family members have Secret Service agents."

Henry could see that his daughter's anger was actually mostly out of concern for him, and he understood. He just needed to find a way to explain everything to her. He figured the beginning was as good a place at any to start. "Can I explain? Please?" Henry asked.

Stevie gestured to the other barstool, indicating that he should sit down, and she would listen to what he had to say.

"Now I know you know that President Adams and I both taught at UVA at the same time—"

"You've known her that long?" Stevie asked, interrupting his story already. "You never said you had met back then..." she trailed off noticing her dad was shaking his head.

"Longer actually, well sort of."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"Stevie please, just let me get through this, and hopefully it'll make a bit more sense. Deal?"

"Fine. Deal," she looked at him impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

"I know you're smart enough to have figured out that Elizabeth Adams and I also _attended_ UVA at the same time, and to answer your question as to what "sort of" means, it means that we did have one class together, but Elizabeth Adams had no clue I existed. And I know what that sounds like, and you'd be correct if you're wondering right about now if that means that I had a crush on the president in college."

Henry noticed the look of disbelief on his daughter's face when he admitted that. "I know it sounds surreal when you say it like that, but back then, she wasn't famous. She was just another college student. Except for the fact that she was brilliant, and wise beyond her years. It's probably why I didn't notice how young she was. I know now that she would've been just 17 when the spring semester started that year. Of course her birthday is in February, and she was 18 for most of the semester. But a buddy of mine in the class saw what I didn't at the time: she was too young. The age difference feels like nothing now, but even though I know now that she was 18, I wasn't sure back then, and it was enough to stop me from asking her out."

Stevie could see the sadness in her father's eyes, and as much as she hated to admit it, she knew first hand that there's a reason why the cliché "the one that got away" exists.

Henry could see the pity in his daughter's eyes again as he was telling his story. He tried to shift direction a bit. He smiled, "But hey, then I graduated and I was in the Marines full-time, and I met your mom, and I know you know how much I loved her. And for 13 years we had the joy and honor of raising you together."

Stevie smiled at the memories of her late mother. She had a lot of good memories that she clung to. As difficult as it was to have a mother who was fighting a war for a great deal of her childhood, Stevie had grown up to accept why her mother had made the sacrifices she'd made.

Henry continued, "You know I was devastated when we lost her. The pain was so unreal. But I knew that I had to fight through it, for you mostly, but also so that I could begin to heal as well."

There was a definite gravity to what her father was saying, and Stevie knew that they had both had to do a lot of healing in the last 15 and a half years. Stevie could also sense that they were at a turning point in the story as her father's expression turned into a wistful smile.

"It was a little over two years later when I first saw Elizabeth Adams again. I had no idea she was back in town. And at the time, I had no idea why," Henry frowned briefly with a pang of regret now that he knew she'd moved back a few years after losing her husband.

"We were at this fancy fundraiser for the big donors of the university. Every year they drag a selection of faculty to the event to show us off. I know I'm a hopeless cliché, but when I saw her enter the ballroom in her fancy ball gown I was blown away. I felt like a part of me had come alive again, and being there in the same room as her in Charlottesville again, a part of me felt like I'd been whisked back to my time as an undergrad just waiting on the edge of my seat to hear what brilliant thing she might say next. She was a force of nature, as I'm sure you can imagine," Henry added with a small chuckle, "even when she was 17. At the fundraiser, I'd assumed at first that she'd gone on to get her master's and made it big in the private sector. But I asked around and found out that she'd just finished her doctorate at the university, and that fall was her first semester as a member of the faculty.

I got to hear her speak in a couple of her larger group conversations that night, and I knew—it was like I felt it in my soul—that if I ever did fall in love again, it could only ever be with her."

Stevie was shocked. It was difficult to absorb all of the information her father had just shared. For so long they had been all each other had, and they were very close because of that, but she had no idea the president meant that much to her father. Sure she'd wondered a few times if her father had maybe smiled a bit too much or seemed a bit too interested when her name had come up in conversation, but she never imagined that he'd been hiding the true depths of his feelings that well.

"Why didn't you ever ask her out when you worked at UVA?"

Henry sighed. This explanation was a bit more complicated. But he'd had enough sleepless nights the last several years where he churned this question over and over in his mind to know the answer. "Well, when I first saw her again in 2009, I knew I was still too broken to think about dating again. And I absolutely don't blame you for a second, because this was my choice, but once I did start to feel ready to think about the possibility of dating again, I didn't feel like I had enough time. I was raising a teenager by myself, and I had enough on my plate with teaching and the books I was writing."

Stevie opened her mouth to protest, but Henry cut her off, "I know what you're thinking. I know if it meant that much to me that I should've found a way, but I was so nervous, and I let the excuses pile up, even after you left for college, I'd gotten pretty good at finding them by that point. Or making them up entirely, I guess."

"Dad, you fought in a war. You've flown jets at whatever the speed is you're always bragging about," she teased him. "How could you be afraid of this?"

"Oh, well, come on, you've met her. She's—"

"Intimidating," Stevie admitted.

"Yes. And truth be told, there was also stupidity mixed in with some of that fear."

Stevie thought that this night couldn't possibly hold any more surprises, but once again her dad had shocked her. She never thought she'd hear her dad, the brilliant world-renowned religious scholar, use the word "stupid" to refer to himself. "What do you mean?"

Henry was very serious when he told her, "I was acting like I had all the time in the world. I should have known better by then."

"Oh," was all Stevie could manage. She knew exactly what he was referring to.

"Yeah. It wasn't until I was falling down the rabbit hole of newspaper articles about the 'mysterious former CIA agent turned professor who'd been nominated to be the next secretary of state' that I'd realized that I'd missed my chance with her."

Stevie thought about it, and she realized that they'd been so caught up talking about the past that her dad hadn't gotten back to the topic of today yet. She was afraid to ask, but she had to. "But did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Miss your chance? I mean what happened after she kissed you?"

"Oh, that," Henry responded, once again unsure of how his daughter would react.

"Yeah, that," Stevie added, rolling her eyes.

"I asked her out. And she said yes."

Stevie sighed. This is what she was afraid of. As much as she wanted her father to be happy, Elizabeth Adams really wasn't just some college professor any more. This date could change both of their lives forever. Stevie didn't want to be selfish, but if her dad was dating the president, she couldn't even begin to predict all the ways their lives would change. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't terrified, for both their sakes.

"Well this is a lot to process, and I need to get dinner in the oven. Dmitri is gonna be home soon. So can we talk about this later?"

"Right. Sure of course take your time." Henry wanted to be as understanding as possible. Normally, his dating life would have no effect on his adult daughter, but he'd have to be naïve to think that dating the president of the United States wouldn't affect her if the public found out about it. He knew she'd need time to understand his decision, and hopefully, forgive him. "I know I don't have a right to ask you for any more favors right now, but can we not talk about this while Dmitri is here?"

"What?" Stevie asked, incredulous. "Dad, he was _your own_ asset. Do you really think he can't keep a secret?"

"It's not that. Although, you are right this does need to remain a secret. It's…" he trailed off, a bit unsure of exactly how to explain this, "I don't even know if tomorrow is going to go well."

Stevie turned to look at her father again after she'd finally added the last few ingredients to the dinner and put the pan in the oven. And here he was, her dad, the soldier, the fighter pilot, and the secret agent who had put his life on the line more times than she would ever know, and he looked scared—vulnerable even. Growing up, she never would have thought her dad was afraid of anything. But now, she understood. She'd lost too much, and risked just enough in her own life to understand that caring about another human being is the scariest experience a person can go through.

Speaking of those risks, she heard Dmitri walk through the door. Stevie excused herself from the kitchen, giving her father a moment to himself. She rushed to greet Dmitri. She hugged him tightly, and when she leaned back to look in his eyes, she told him, "I love you, you know that?"

It was rhetorical, but Dmitri could sense the somber weight of the atmosphere in the apartment that night. He smiled at her as he said, "Of course. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied. She knew he'd see right through her lie, but she also knew he trusted her enough to know that she would talk about it when she was ready.

From there, the rest of the night was smooth sailing, which was no surprise considering the fact that both the men at the dinner knew quite well how to navigate a world full of secrets.

After dinner, Henry thanked his daughter and her fiancé before he left to return home to what he was sure would be a sleepless night. Only now, for the first time in a very long time, he knew his anticipation and his nerves would be for something exciting, and _not_ thoughts of some dangerous mission, or worry for one of his assets, or dreading a threat to the country's safety. It was a good feeling.

He'd already left the apartment building when he heard Stevie calling out to try to catch up to him.

"Stevie, what's wrong?" He asked, figuring it must be pretty important for her to run outside after him with no coat on in the middle of January.

"One more thing," she told him, shivering from the cold. "She's a terrible cook."

"What? Who?"

"The president."

"Okay if this is your way of trying to convince me not to go out with her, I gotta say, you're off to a terrible start."

"Would you please just listen? I've decided to help you."

"How does insulting her help me?"

" _Because_ I also know that her mother-in-law hates cooking too. They love takeout, and the president's favorite is Chinese food." At that, Stevie could tell that her dad was finally getting the point. "I imagine she misses it. She also loves popcorn, ice cream, and chocolate."

"How do you know all this? You said you barely saw her on the campaign trail."

Stevie smiled mischievously. She'd been waiting a long time for an excuse to say this. "The Harvard Assistants Mafia."

"The what?" completely confused as to why his daughter had just spoken those rather incongruous three words in the same sentence.

"Trust me, it's not as nefarious as it sounds," she explained, quoting Blake. She explained further, "Her assistant is one of my best friends. I've seen him buy a lot of food for her over the years. And you're forgetting that I planned a Christmas party for this woman."

Henry had forgotten. At the time, he had been a little bit busy investigating the senate majority leader.

"So trust me when I tell you, the way to Elizabeth Adams's heart is through food."

Henry smiled. He hugged Stevie as he thanked her. He knew they still had a lot to talk about, but he hoped that maybe this gesture meant that she would eventually approve of him dating Elizabeth.

"Now get inside. It's freezing out here."

Stevie rolled her eyes again at her dad's overprotective habits. "Yes, dad," she responded with a hint of sass before she turned serious again. "And good luck."

He thanked her again and watched to make sure she made it back into the building okay. As he turned to walk away, he smiled, full excitement and hope for what the next day would bring.


	9. Three Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, this chapter contains The Date.
> 
> Just as a warning: this chapter is a mix of fluff and angst. There are serious topics discussed. Mostly, Elizabeth's losses of her husband and her parents, the coup in Iran, and the bombing in "E Pluribus Unum."

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Elizabeth asked as she stared at herself in the mirror.

It had been such a long time since Elizabeth had done this—dress for a date. It had been even longer since she'd had to dress for a first date. 35 years. She blew out a heavy puff of air in a futile attempt to relieve some of her nerves.

Sure, what she wore and how she looked was, unfortunately, a constant factor in her life, despite how much she hated it. Over the years she'd gotten better at tuning out the critics who judged her based solely on her appearance. And more than that, she'd worked hard to fight for equity so that her children, and maybe one day, grandchildren wouldn't have to face all the obstacles she's faced.

In the end, she'd settled on a nice pair of dark wash jeans and a pale Alice blue sweater with a simple stockinette stitch. In her younger years she might've worn a dress for a first date. She'd thought about it briefly earlier, but decided against it. She didn't even know what they'd be doing tonight, and it felt a bit odd to dress up for a date in your own house. Granted, she dressed up all the time for formal events in the East Wing, but that was different.

After she'd thought about it, she'd realized that, other than that one class as undergrads, her professional side was all Henry really knew of her. All he'd seen of her in the last eight years was the public figure clad in business attire or formalwear. She wanted Henry to see more than that. She wanted him to see the parts of her life that weren't quite so serious or glamorous.

It was a good thing she'd already decided that, because when she'd returned to the residence earlier to examine her wardrobe with this new lens, she'd realized that she didn't own a single dress anymore that didn't scream either "day at the office" or "state dinner." Neither of those looks would have been appropriate. She couldn't help but think that maybe she should listen to Ali the next time she told her that she needed more fun in her life.

She smiled slightly as she thought, _that's what I_ am _doing_.

Her makeup was also relatively simple. A touch more than she wore to the office, but a far cry from an inaugural ball. Her hair was a different battle. It was arguably the most subjective decision regarding her appearance. Lately, she'd been wearing it up quite a bit, but in her secretary of state days she'd worn it down most of the time. Running with the theme of showing Henry a side of her he didn't get to see too often, she decided to wear her hair half up, half down.

Was she putting too much thought into this? Probably. After all, with his crack about Henry's behavior at graduations, Mike had pointed out that Henry just might find her attractive no matter what she was wearing or how her hair looked.

But Elizabeth needed to do this. She needed the distraction. In all honesty, she was terrified for tonight. And her appearance was an outlet for all that nervous energy. It helped her to feel like there was something she could control while she waited for Henry to arrive.

"Okay with this? Lizzie, you're 54 years old. You're well past the age of having to ask permission to go on a date," Elizabeth heard from behind her.

_And yet, still young enough to be called "Lizzie,"_ Elizabeth thought. "I know that. That's not what I—I mean…"

"It's okay to be scared."

"I know that too. It's just—it's hitting me harder today than it has in a long time. He's really gone." Elizabeth once again attempted to take a deep breath and exhale slowly. As much as she liked Henry, her mind had also wandered to thoughts of Greg throughout the day. She needed to know what Evelyn was thinking.

"I understand," Evelyn told her. "There are days when I find myself in denial about the whole thing. And in those moments, it's barely a ripple in a pond. But others, the grief comes crashing over me like a tidal wave."

"I was in denial for a long time," Elizabeth shared. "Those first few years when we were still living in McLean. That was our home. It was where we had started building our life together. I'd seen him walk through that front door so many times throughout the years, and a part of me never really accepted that I'd never see that again. Like maybe that day was all just a horrible nightmare, and any minute the door would open and I would hear Ali's tiny little feet running to greet him.

But then we moved out to the farm when I quit the CIA, and it all became so real. He'd never lived there, and I couldn't keep hiding from the fact that he was really gone. It felt like my whole world was falling apart all over again. I knew I couldn't risk my life by going to Baghdad. I couldn't leave Ali and Jace behind with no parents. They were even younger than Will and I were. It was the right decision not to become station chief. But when I had to give up my job at the CIA after everything else that had happened, I felt like the world was just slowly ripping away everything I loved. It's part of why I ended up burying myself in work for my Ph.D."

"Lizzie, why didn't you ever tell me?" Evelyn asked, genuinely concerned about what her daughter-in-law has just revealed.

"You were so wonderful for all of your help back then with the kids and the housework. And I couldn't stop thinking that I knew I'd lost my husband, but you had just lost your son. And then I'd look at Ali and Jace's tiny little faces, and I just—I couldn't imagine the pain of losing one of them. I convinced myself that I had no clue what you were going through, and I didn't want to be any more of a burden than I already was."

"You were never a burden, sweetie. I loved helping you with the kids. Greg was robbed of so much of his life, but the only thing that kept me going was knowing that part of him was going to live on in Ali and Jason. And after everything we lost that day, being there to help while my grandkids grew up was not a burden, it was the greatest gift I could have hoped for."

Elizabeth's tears were falling steadily now. "I just don't want to let him down."

"Lizzie, you are the best mom, a kind and caring person, and the president of the United States. Do you know how unbelievably proud he would be of you? You think going on a date after waiting 21 years would 'let him down' somehow?"

"I don't know, I guess. I know it sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud, but even though he's gone, I still don't want to hurt him."

"You know what I think would hurt him then most, Lizzie?"

"What?" She asked, apprehensively.

"If you didn't follow your heart. Because I know this for certain, Greg's biggest concern in the whole world was that you were happy. You, and the kids once they'd been born. If there was any way for him to tell you himself now, he'd tell you that he appreciates the thought, but you've waited long enough."

Elizabeth chuckled through her tears. Greg had always been rather practical, and he somehow still managed to have the biggest heart too. It was one of the many things she'd loved about him.

"You sure?"

"Positive. Now alright, here's what we're gonna do. Three things."

"What?"

"Like I said, Greg would want you to be happy. We need to get you back on track, missy," Evelyn informed her, observing Elizabeth's tear-stained face. "So, right now, give me three things that you like about Henry McCord."

"His eyes." Elizabeth responded. She thought about it for a moment and smiled softly through the tears in her own eyes. "God, I think I could tell you three things I like about just his eyes alone."

"That's wonderful, Lizzie," Evelyn encouraged her with a small smile of her own. "What is it about his eyes?"

"Well, they're brown, and the depth there... they're just so… dynamic. I can see so much kindness in his eyes. But there's pain in them as well. He lost someone a long time ago too. And there are moments when you can see that, but it's subtle. It's like a glimpse at all the hurt he's been through. I'm not sure if anyone else would even notice it, but it struck me, it's the same look I catch in the mirror sometimes.

But what amazes me is that in spite of that, there's still so much hope there too. And it's like, when I see hope in his eyes, I can feel hope too. And when I smile, it makes him smile too. I just feel, I don't know, connected to him somehow. And even more than all of that, when he looks at me I can tell he sees Elizabeth, and not just "Madam President."

"Lizzie, I think everything you just described," Evelyn responded, attempting to suppress a chuckle, "That's what falling for someone feels like."

"I know. God, I can't even deny it. But you're right, it scares me, Evelyn. And I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing here."

"And that's a perfectly rational response. It is scary. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I guess, what I'm most worried about is that I could fall for him, and then he might wake up one day and decide that he no longer wants this lifestyle. Or… that he no longer wants me."

"Well, you're right, this lifestyle is certainly not for everyone, but what makes you think he might not want you?"

"Mike told me yesterday that Henry's had a crush on me for a long time, as in, before I was even secretary of state. What if he's built something up in his mind that's totally different from what reality will be? What if I'm not the person he's really expecting?"

"Oh, sweetie, if I know one thing it's this: reality will be completely different from any fantasy this man might be hoping for in his mind. And you will most certainly _not_ be who he's expecting."

"What?! So you think this is doomed before it even begins?"

At that, Evelyn got up and drew Elizabeth into a tight hug. "No. Not doomed. Not at all. You will not be what he's expecting. But I firmly believe that once Henry gets to know you, he'll find that he loves who you really are even more than any fantasy."

"You think?"

"I really do." Evelyn stepped back. "How about three more things?"

Elizabeth smiled thinking about their lunch the day before. "He's really smart, and he's patient, and very sweet."

"Great. I think you're just about ready now. I'll be in the library if you need me. But I have a feeling you'll be just fine without me," Evelyn remarked as she left Elizabeth's suite.

Elizabeth turned to face the mirror one more time. After touching up her makeup, she steeled herself as she muttered, "Right, here goes nothing."

Even though Elizabeth had made the trek from her suite to the State Floor in far more formal attire more times than she could count, as she descended the Grand Staircase to the Entrance Hall tonight, Elizabeth felt a bit like a princess arriving at a ball. The difference was that she'd never had a man waiting for her at the bottom of these stairs before. Honestly, the whole scenario made her feel quite ridiculous. That was, until her gaze met Henry's and she realized that he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"Hi," he greeted her once she finally reached the bottom of the stairs. "You look beautiful."

It may have sounded corny, but as Henry had already mentioned to his daughter last night, he seemed to be a walking cliché when it came to Elizabeth Adams. He just couldn't believe they were really standing here about to go on their first date. He'd been waiting a long time to be able to tell Elizabeth all the thoughts and feelings he'd kept bottled up throughout the years he'd known her. More than half his life.

"Thanks," Elizabeth responded, blushing slightly. "You're not so bad yourself." She smirked at the fact that he was also wearing a nice pair of dark wash jeans. His were paired with a charcoal grey sweater and pigeon blue collared shirt underneath.

In the following moment, both Henry and Elizabeth were a bit too wrapped up in their nerves. And after a beat of awkward silence, Henry was desperate to break the ice. He blurted out the first thing that popped into his head. "You're wearing your hair down. You don't do that too often anymore."

Henry was silently berating himself for saying such a stupid thing, and he hoped she didn't think he sound like a stalker for the "anymore" bit of the comment. But he had noticed that she'd taken to wearing her hair up more often than not since the inauguration.

"Huh? Oh I guess not." Elizabeth was taken aback by his comment. It wasn't that she was necessarily surprised that he'd noticed, even though she had no clue if hairstyles were something that Henry paid attention to. She was just a bit startled that he'd mentioned it so abruptly. Then again, she dreaded to think what nonsense she might've blurted out if Henry hadn't seen fit to take the initiative.

Henry's grimace at what he'd said was minuscule, but Elizabeth caught it. She thought it was sweet how badly Henry wanted this to go well. She felt the same way. And yet, due to her own nerves, she couldn't stop the know-it-all side of her (as her brother so often loved to tease her for) from correcting him. "Well, technically it's half up, half down," she informed him with a nervous smile. "I uh… couldn't decide, so I went for the compromise." _Am I admitting that I put too much thought into how I looked tonight?_ Elizabeth wondered briefly.

"Ah you found the Middle Way," Henry responded.

"The road between sensual indulgence and self-mortification?" Elizabeth asked skeptically, remembering what Arlen Maxwell had told her in Myanmar.

Henry felt as though his heart skipped a beat. He loved that she knew that. He considered what he'd said for a moment and agreed, "You're right, I don't think it quite applies here."

"Maybe more like the path between 2020 Elizabeth and 2021 Elizabeth," she teased him.

"I'm sorry, my religious references are usually more on point than that." _You just make me nervous_ , he thought, but didn't dare admit out loud.

She chuckled a bit, "Don't worry, Henry. I'm sure there will be plenty more opportunities for religious references going forward." Truth be told, she didn't give thought to religion too often in her own life. Of course she did her best to learn and respect other cultures and religions as it pertained to her work, but it had never really been a part of casual conversations she had once she'd gone home.

It excited Elizabeth that Henry's area of expertise was different from her own. She knew they were both nervous right now, and she trusted that Henry had a wealth of knowledge that he could share with her as time went on. But for tonight, they needed to dive right in, and hopefully, work past some of their nerves. "So, what's on the agenda for the evening?"

"Well, if you'll accompany me to the East Colonnade, our movie awaits," he informed her while making a slightly cheesy, but completely adorable gesture indicating she should join him on the short walk to the hallway that leads to the East Wing.

As they started walking, Elizabeth couldn't help giggling at Henry's behavior. "Mike was right. You really are a dork."

Henry stopped abruptly. His face fell. He was desperate to make a good impression tonight, and he was terrified that he'd already ruined his chance with Elizabeth before the date had really even begun. "What?" Henry asked, looking dejected.

Sensing her mistake, Elizabeth quickly turned to face him. She grabbed his hands in hers the way he had the day before as she rushed to assure him, "No, don't be embarrassed. Please. I like it."

She smiled up at him as she inched closer. She planted a kiss on his cheek and said, "Come on, let's go watch a movie. I haven't seen one in almost four years. It sounds perfect."

The moment they entered the theater, Elizabeth stopped short, and Henry just barely managed to stop himself from bumping into her. Elizabeth turned around and wrapped her arms around his waist while leaning back to look into his eyes. With a smile that was brighter than he'd ever seen from her, she asked, "Popcorn?"

The smell of one of her all-time favorite foods had hit Elizabeth as soon as the door had opened, but until she saw the classic red and white striped bucket sitting on one of the center seats, she'd wondered if it was too good to be true.

Henry chuckled as he turned her around and guided her to their seats. "What else are you going to eat at the movies?" he asked, while silently thanking Stevie for her advice.

Elizabeth couldn't get over it, though. "How did you get it approved?"

Henry gave her a devilish grin, hoping that despite his dorky side, he might also be able to win her over with his cooler intelligence agent side. "Well I can't reveal all my secrets, but let's just say there may have been some tradecraft involved."

Elizabeth was shocked. "Contraband?" she asked practically at a whisper. "How did you get it past the Secret Service?" she demanded to know. And he could swear that the look on her face indicated that she _liked_ the thought of him sneaking something past her security. That the notion actually made him _more_ attractive in her eyes.

As much as he enjoyed that look, he still felt that he should be honest. "No, I did _not_ sneak something in past the Secret Service; I do value my life," he added with a teasing smile. "Let's just say it took some convincing, but I got the chief usher to give Chef Cindy a couple of days off."

Elizabeth was still impressed by this feat. She was clutching the bucket of popcorn as she leaned in and informed Henry in the flirtiest tone of voice she'd used in a very long time, "My, Dr. McCord, you sure are useful."

"I hope I'm a bit more than just that," Henry admitted, attempting to reciprocate her playful attitude. But Elizabeth could still see his insecurities he had buried beneath the surface.

Elizabeth removed one of her hands from where she was holding the popcorn. She ran her hand from his shoulder down his upper arm in an attempt to comfort him as she told him seriously, "You are, Henry."

She smiled at him warmly, hoping he could see that, despite her hesitation to agree to the date yesterday, she wanted tonight to go well just as badly as he did.

"So tell me, what are we watching?" Elizabeth asked.

"We are watching the new Ashley Whitaker movie. And I know some of her work in the past has been geared more toward the YA crowd, but as of late, she has been breaking into the romantic comedy genre."

Elizabeth eyed Henry suspiciously, but she was also quite amused. "Why do you know all this?"

Henry hesitantly admitted, "I might've done a little research."

_What the hell could this possibly have to do with his research?_ Elizabeth wondered. Then it hit her. "Research for our date?" Much like yesterday, Elizabeth was finding that a simple gesture from Henry McCord had the power to make her feel butterflies. "Thank you, Henry."

"For what?" He asked as he absorbed the sincerity in Elizabeth's eyes.

"For helping me believe that I made the right decision about tonight."

"How did I do that?" Henry asked. He wondered what exactly it was that he'd done to make her feel so sure about tonight already. He needed to know these things, because Henry wanted more than just to fall in love with Elizabeth Adams. He wanted to understand her. He wanted to know her, because he wanted to take every chance he got to make her as happy as he believed that she would make him.

"Just by being you," she told him, because truly, that was enough for her.

Reveling in the moment, Henry clasped Elizabeth's hand in his and reached to move the bucket of popcorn from her lap to his.

"Hey—" she started to protest before he could explain.

_Wow, Stevie really wasn't kidding about how passionate Elizabeth was about food,_ Henry thought.

"Don't worry. I just don't want you to have to let go," he explained with a kind grin and a gentle squeeze of her hand. Noticing the flash of guilt on her face, he amended his statement. "Any more than I already know and completely understand that you'll have to."

Elizabeth visibly relaxed at his confirmation that he understood that she would probably be dragged away for work for a decent portion of the movie. Feeling comforted by Henry's words, she took a chance and slid down in her seat just enough to rest her head on Henry's shoulder.

Henry took the final minute before the movie started to close his eyes and appreciate the calming sense of pure joy he felt in this moment. He knew his neck might hurt like hell the next day when he moved to rest his own head against hers, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to be even just a little bit closer to Elizabeth.

Henry and Elizabeth managed to make it through the movie with Elizabeth only being pulled away six times. And most of those incidents only lasted a few minutes. All told, she had missed less than half the movie. In truth, that was actually better than what Elizabeth had hoped for.

The credits began to roll, and Henry shifted to stand. "You're not gonna watch the credits?" Elizabeth asked.

_Why does she sound disappointed about that?_ Henry wondered. "Well, it's not like it's an MCU movie."

Henry thought Elizabeth seemed a bit distracted as she'd begun to ramble a bit about the credits, "... and all these people put in so much time to make the movie—" Just as Henry was about to ask if everything was okay, it seemed as though Elizabeth had finally registered what he'd said, "It's not a _what_ movie?"

Henry chuckled, "MCU." Upon being met with a questioning look from Elizabeth, he explained further, "Marvel Cinematic Universe. It's the company that's been making all of the more recent movies that are based on the Marvel Comics. Iron Man, Captain America, The Hulk, The Avengers."

"Ohh, you know what, Ali and Jason dragged me out to go see Iron Man 2 to celebrate me finishing my first year of teaching." She laughed at the memory, "I think it would have made sense, though if I had seen the first one."

_Without a doubt,_ he thought. Those movies could be difficult to follow for people who _had_ seen them all. "Well," he explained, "those movies have scenes in the middle of and at the end of the credits. Otherwise I guess I have to admit, I don't usually watch them."

"I'm sorry for babbling," Elizabeth began. She figured she should just be honest and stop wasting their time. "I just didn't want you to leave yet."

Elizabeth bit her bottom lip and nervously awaited Henry's reaction.

Henry was over the moon. He'd been so nervous all night about what was going on in Elizabeth's head. Nervous that at any minute she might decide that she really didn't have time to date, or that she might not like him enough to want to try to make this work. But she'd said that she wanted him to stay. It was a relief to know what she was thinking.

With a new found confidence, Henry stood and held out his hand for Elizabeth to join him as he happily informed her, "Well then, fortunately, I have planned a part two for the evening."

Elizabeth accepted his hand with a hopeful smile and told Henry to lead the way.

Henry led Elizabeth up the stairs toward her suite in the Residence. He'd never actually been to the Residence, but he had studied the schematics of the White House before. He wasn't quite sure if that was a result of his so-called "dorkiness," if it was simply a matter of fact that any intelligence agent would study the blueprints of a building they worked in, or some combination of the two.

Henry stopped outside of the door that led to the living room of Elizabeth's suite.

Noticing that Henry perhaps felt awkward just walking into her space, Elizabeth asked, "Are we here?" With the confirmation from Henry, she opened the door, and for the second time that night, she was instantly met by the smell of one of her favorite foods.

On a dime, she turned to Henry, pulled him into the living room while shutting the door behind them, and asked without hesitation, "All right, I want a name. Who is it?"

"Excuse me?" Henry asked, taken aback by her sudden shift in mood.

"Your source? Who is it? I was willing to let the popcorn slide, seeing as how it was the movies and everything. But this? You just happen to pick my favorite food for dinner too?"

"I—"

"Don't even try it, McCord. You're in way over your head. Now I'm going to ask you again, and you're going to give me an name this time, because I think we can _both_ agree that we don't want a leak in my inner circle right now."

"Okay, okay. You got me. It was my daughter."

"Aha! I knew it!" Elizabeth was so caught up in the excitement of being right that it took her a moment to fully realize what he'd said. "Wait, what? Your daughter? How the hell would she know—" that was when it hit her. "McCord. Stevie McCord is your daughter!" Elizabeth exclaimed excitedly.

It all made sense to her now. It was the only logical explanation. She knew that in addition to being Russell's intern, Stevie McCord had the unique distinction of being Blake's best friend. Come to think of it, Elizabeth almost dreaded to think what details about her life the young woman could have gleaned through the years. Although she had to admit, Stevie's memory for detail was quite impressive.

"That makes so much sense," Elizabeth told him, happy to have added a rather significant piece to the puzzle that was Dr. Henry McCord, Ph.D.

That was when she noticed the discomfort on Henry's face, and she realized how what she just said could have sounded. She'd seen her own kids panic enough times over accusations of nepotism to know the signs.

"It wasn't—" Henry began to defend his daughter before Elizabeth cut him off.

"I'm sorry, Henry. That's not what I meant." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze for comfort as he had done for her earlier, and told him, "What I meant was that she's a brilliant, kind, and brave person. Just like her dad."

Henry was relieved that she hadn't meant what he'd feared she meant, and a bit embarrassed that he'd briefly worried Elizabeth would think that about him and Stevie. But mostly, he was overwhelmed with a sense of pride that she thought so highly of his daughter, and a feeling of joy that she thought that highly of him too.

Elizabeth and Henry made their way over to the couch to eat their dinner, and Elizabeth smirked at him. "I gotta say, McCord, I'm liking the whole eating on the couch idea you've got planned here. It's cozy," she added leaning close to Henry as they sat down.

Henry was glad she liked the plan. He knew it was a bit of a bold choice for a first date, but after what Stevie had told him last night, he was thinking that Elizabeth might enjoy something more casual as opposed to all of the protocol and procedures she was forced to follow every day. "I was thinking it would be… I don't know, fun, I guess."

Henry was worried that she might not appreciate the assumption that she needed some more fun in her life.

Elizabeth was grateful that he'd thought of it. And yet, she was frowning. She hadn't even noticed until Henry asked her what was wrong.

"It's nothing," she told him. "I was actually thinking earlier today that I needed more fun in my life. Ali, and on occasion Jason, were usually the ones who reminded me to put down my work and have fun every once in a while. I guess I was just thinking about how much I miss them."

"Hey, I understand," he told her while taking the opportunity to gently brush a loose lock of her hair back behind her ear. He then guided his fingertips along the side of her cheek and lifted her chin so that her eyes met his. "It's hard to let go. I mean, my daughter lives in the city, and I still miss her like crazy."

"Wait, doesn't your daughter live with you?"

"No. Not anymore. What made you think that?"

"Well your Wikipedia page said—" Elizabeth stopped immediately once she realized what she was saying. What she was admitting. Thankfully, Henry hadn't noticed.

He was too surprised. "I have a Wikipedia page?" he asked in shock.

"Uh, yeah," Elizabeth laughed. _For someone so intelligent he sure can be a tad oblivious to certain things,_ she thought.

Then he realized, "Wait _you_ read my Wikipedia page?"

"I uh—might have skimmed it you could say," she admitted.

It was now Henry's turn to laugh at her. "I'm not sure the taxpayers are giving their hard-earned money to the government so you can waste time trolling the internet for intel on your date," Henry teased her.

Elizabeth scoffed. "It's not like I was doing this during office hours," she replied just a bit too defensively.

Henry wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily, though. He eyed her with playful suspicion and told her, "Please, you're lucky I'm the only one here, because no one's buying that lie. It's okay, you can tell me. I won't blow the whistle."

Elizabeth could see she wasn't getting out of this one easily. "If you must know," she retorted with mock sass, "I _was_ reading up a bit about you when I was down in my study yesterday morning. But that was before our lunch, and at the time, I thought you were there to look for a job. I was merely prepping for a meeting."

"And the president of the United States gets her information for her meetings from Wikipedia, does she?"

"Henryyy," Elizabeth complained, dragging out the last syllable.

He finally surrendered. "All right, all right. You win. Let's eat."

Elizabeth smiled, unable to resist one final jab in their playful battle of words, "Now _that's_ the smartest thing I've heard you say."

Henry laughed at her joke and watched as she rushed to dispense the various dishes laid out on the coffee table onto her plate. He knew he should eat too before the food got cold, but he couldn't take his eyes off of Elizabeth. All he could think was that he couldn't even begin to imagine all of the wonders she had seen in her career traveling the world. And yet, she took so much pleasure in such simple things.

He wondered if maybe it was because he also couldn't dare to imagine the horrors she'd seen in her life too. Maybe it was actually the little day to day things that brought her the joy that provided her her refuge to recover from the terrors that she faced on a regular basis.

Dinner progressed, and Henry found time to eat once Elizabeth had gotten on a roll with her storytelling. She told him all about her kids, her fondest memories with her staff, and she told him how much she loved it when she got to work with kids. She was especially excited that because Jay's ex-wife was out of town, he had to bring his daughter Chloe into the office this weekend.

Henry thought he could listen to her talk all night. She was so different now than he had ever seen her. She looked so free just casually sitting on the couch and telling stories. She wasn't making a speech, debating policy, or negotiating with a foreign official. She was simply Elizabeth tonight. The fate of the world wasn't hanging in the balance, and nobody's lives were in her hand at the moment. Henry felt privileged to see this side of her that only a select few ever get to see.

Elizabeth was worried that she might be talking too much, but Henry didn't seem like he was going to be ready to stop her any time soon. And she could see it written all over his face that he was actively listening to her—practically hanging on every word in fact.

She could feel her smile getting bigger and bigger as the night continued. As much as she hated to admit that Conrad was right about her, she really did feel happier just having someone around to recount these stories to. Memories really were better if you had someone you care about to share them with.

After a while, Elizabeth began to settle down a bit more as she was getting a bit tired.

Henry was enjoying himself even more than he had imagined, but there was something that had been nagging at him throughout dinner. They were having such a good time, and Henry didn't want to ruin it. He was also more than a little afraid to ask Elizabeth what he wanted to ask her, but he had to know, "Why did you say she was brave?

"What?"

"Earlier when you were describing Stevie. You said she was brave. That's not—that's not a typical adjective used to describe the work of an intern with a desk job."

Elizabeth wasn't quite sure how to respond. She hadn't expected this conversation tonight, but she supposed it was her own fault for bringing it up, however indirectly.

She took a deep breath to prepare herself to tell this story.

"I was there—well I mean, I was just outside the White House when it was bombed back in 2018. I heard it happen, and I saw the smoke. What happened after was terrifying. No one knew what was happening at first, if there was going to be a secondary attack, or even—" she paused for a moment to collect herself, "or even if Conrad was still alive."

She let out a shaky breath and continued once again. "As soon as I was able to, I went to the hospital to visit the victims. I knew Prime Ministers Kharti and Wadelya and Minister Samant would be there, but Stevie was a surprise. She was just so young, and I'd noticed that Russell was sitting with her alone. I went into her room to talk to him. I asked him where her parents were. He told me that he'd managed to convince her father to take a break and run home to grab some personal items for her so that she could feel more comfortable when she woke up. And he said," Elizabeth choked up a bit, "He said that she lost her mother when she was 13."

Henry wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulled Elizabeth close to him, and grabbed her hand. It was an awful day for both of them to talk about, but he'd heard enough about Elizabeth's past to know why that last fact about Stevie would be particularly difficult for Elizabeth to discuss.

She went on. "He also told me that in the moments after the attack, all Stevie cared about was getting help for June."

Elizabeth had started crying now, and Henry was on the brink of tears thinking about that day himself. "She just reminded me so much of my brother. He was 13 too when we lost our parents, and he—he actually didn't tell me this until recently—but in the moments after the crash, all he cared about was trying to get help for my parents.

It's the worst part. When you experience a trauma like that." Elizabeth's mind had wandered back to thoughts of Iran, but she'd had enough sessions with Dr. Sherman by now that she didn't believe she'd end up having a flashback at the moment. "The part where you see someone else caught up in the horror with you. And you have all this adrenaline you don't know what to do with, and you're forced to face the fact that you're powerless to stop what's happening."

Elizabeth felt Henry pull her tighter to him as she paused to wipe as many of the tears from her eyes as she could, and then she got back to the part about Stevie. "I stayed with her and Russell for as long as I could before I got pulled away on a phone call. When I came back, I saw that her father—you apparently—had returned, and I decided it would be best not to disturb you. So I left."

Henry was overwhelmed with emotion. He was always overwhelmed whenever he thought about that day, but despite the pain they were reliving in this moment, finding out that Elizabeth had been there at the hospital with Stevie, in a way, gave him hope too.

There were so many potential reasons why a relationship with Elizabeth could fail. One of the possibilities that had been weighing heavily on his mind since his initial conversation with Stevie was whether or not their families would get along when the time came for them to meet.

Henry hadn't really doubted Elizabeth, but the kindness she had already shown his daughter reaffirmed his belief that a relationship with Elizabeth would be worth anything the country, the world, or life could throw at them. And he had hope that they might able to lean on each other through difficult times in the future, just as they were doing now.

Henry stared at his and Elizabeth's hands joined in his lap. Elizabeth had thanked him earlier, but now Henry felt as though it was his turn. A tear had begun to fall down his cheek as he turned to face Elizabeth. A simple, "Thank you," was all he could manage at first.

Much like Henry had done for her yesterday, Elizabeth lifted her free hand to Henry's cheek and wiped away his tear.

She wasn't quite sure what she'd done. Other than make Henry cry. "For what? I mean, all I did was—" Elizabeth began before Henry cut her off.

For a brief moment, Elizabeth thought she saw a flicker of something akin to anger in his eyes as he told her, "Don't do that."

"Do what?" She asked, even more confused.

"Sell yourself short." It was then that Elizabeth understood what she'd thought was anger. Henry was gearing up to defend her. "You barely knew Stevie. And on a day when you had so much going on, you sat with her for as long as you could, just because you saw that she was hurt and she needed someone. How many other cabinet secretaries would have done that? Hell—how many other _people_? You are one of a kind Elizabeth Adams."

Elizabeth smiled bashfully. In her line of work she met sycophants daily, but it was so much rarer that she encountered praise as genuine and heartfelt as Henry's.

Sensing her unease, Henry decided to let the conversation rest. After they'd taken a few moments, Henry figured he should try to lighten the mood a bit. "So, I believe you also mentioned brilliant earlier too?" Henry asked with a smile.

Elizabeth was grateful for the shift in conversation. She chuckled a bit, but she deeply admired how much he cared about his daughter. And she understood quite well the feeling of pride you experience as a parent when someone compliments your child.

"Well, it's not every day an intern saves the day and gets a bill passed that helps make millions children's lives better."

Henry's eyes went wide. "She got a bill passed?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"I guess she's just modest. Maybe like someone else I know," Henry gently rubbed her bicep, indicating that he was teasing her.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes slightly. Normally she couldn't stand being teased, but there was something in the look in Henry's eyes that made her stomach flip when he smiled that way at her. She was starting to think that being teased was worth it if she got to see Henry smile at her like that.

"Did she tell you anything about Pandagate?"

Henry laughed. "You mean when she tweeted the National Zoo, and revealed Russell's Panda Cam habit to the whole world. I did happen to catch that one."

Elizabeth was laughing too thinking back on the memory. She tucked her knees underneath her to face Henry better as she began her next story. "You should have seen Russell that week. He was furious, but I had already learned from one of my more dicey negotiations with China that you do not come between Russell Jackson and his panda bears."

Henry was already enjoying this new story, and they hadn't even gotten to the part about Stevie yet. He loved hearing Elizabeth's laugh, and he loved the way her eyes were lighting up with glee as she shared what had happened.

"But anyway, back to Stevie. She handled the whole situation with grace beyond her years. We didn't want to tell Stevie this to make her feel self-conscious, but she became the NSC's favorite White House staffer that week. Russell's such a serious person," Elizabeth told him between gasps of laughter.

"As are the members of the NSC, I'd imagine," Henry pointed out. _Although I'm starting to doubt that just a bit_ , Henry jokingly thought upon seeing that Elizabeth's tears had now been replaced by tears of amusement.

"Of course we are," Elizabeth jokingly admonished while giving Henry a tiny playful shove. "But it's so rare that something funny happens at the White House, you gotta appreciate those moments when you can. I may have even gone out of my way to gain some further intel from Adele a couple days later to get the whole story," she admitted sheepishly, "Subtly of course, I was CIA, after all. It turned out that when the tweet went viral, dozens of senators and members of congress had sent stuffed panda bears to Russell's office in the West Wing. Then later that day, POTUS had a photo op with some children who were cancer survivors. It turned out that one of them recognized Russell as the "Panda Man" and asked him for a photo. And it was Stevie's idea to tag the senators who sent the pandas in her post on Instagram. So many Americans saw it, and the public forced Morejon and the other senators to back the bill."

Henry was amazed by all this. He knew how excited Stevie was when the bill passed, but she hadn't told him how big of an impact her social media posts had had on Congress.

"So, tell me, how is she doing? Is she happy?"

Henry smiled. Every time he heard Elizabeth speak he seemed to find another reason that he was falling for her. In a city rampant with narcissistic ambition, here Elizabeth was, not asking what Stevie had accomplished or what she was doing with her life. She'd asked if she was happy. That was what she cared about and what she hoped for for his daughter. Not wealth and power, but joy and happiness.

"She's great. She's fiercely devoted to her work, and," Henry paused, still not quite used to the idea of his little girl getting married, "her fiancé."

Elizabeth gasped. "She's engaged? To who? Do we like him?" She asked, partially joking, but also a bit serious.

Henry laughed, and even though he knew it was an expression, and she was joking, his mind was reeling having heard Elizabeth use the word "we."

"We do like him, he's…" Henry trailed off, not quite sure what Elizabeth's feelings were regarding or even how much she knew exactly about Dmitri. "Her fiancé is actually Dmitri Petrov."

Her reaction was better than he could have hoped for. "Really?" she asked, clearly excited for the young couple. "That's wonderful, Henry. Honesty, it was so horrible the way that—that everything went down with Igor Zhukov and the transfer to Alaska. I can't imagine how hard that must have been for her."

"It was rough for a while. But hey, she's got you to thank for getting him back. If you hadn't signed the amnesty deal—"

"Please, Henry. After everything that young man went through for this country, he deserved some peace, and his freedom."

Henry wrapped his arm around her shoulder again, and Elizabeth rested her head against his chest. She could feel Henry's heart beating faster, and she smiled, knowing that her own heart was beating faster as well as a result of Henry's touch.

They sat together in a comfortable silence, leaning on each other as they processed all the new information they'd learned about each other tonight.

Eventually, Elizabeth began to doze off. And as much as Henry wished he could revel in the fact that he could be the one who got to hold her while she slept, he knew that their date had to come to an end for the night. He placed a light kiss on the top of her head before he gently woke her.

"Elizabeth?"

"Yeah?" She asked sleepily.

"I think it's time I should go."

"Yeah," she responded again, sighing slightly out of disappointment.

She stood up and held out her hands to pull Henry to his feet too. With one of his hands still in hers, she walked him to the door of her suite's living room. She knew he was perfectly capable of finding his way out the rest of the way, and she didn't want to say their goodbyes for the night downstairs where any of the Residence staff could walk by at any moment.

"So…" Henry began.

"So," Elizabeth smiled as she repeated his word back to him, waiting for him to finish his thought.

"So what's next?"

"Well," she began with a hopeful grin, "lucky for us, one of those calls I got during the movie was from Ali. Her new flight lands early Sunday morning. So, we have more time tomorrow if you want to do this again."

Henry's heart was racing. Elizabeth had used the word "we" again to refer to the two of them. And this time, it wasn't an expression, and she wasn't joking in the slightest. She had even referred to them as "us." He loved the sound of that.

"I most definitely want to do this again," Henry managed to answer while desperately trying to keep his cool. "What do you say to a trip to the bowling alley?"

Slowly drifting closer to him, Elizabeth replied, "I say get the kitchen to make us some burgers and I'm there, McCord."

"Your wish is my command, Adams," he retorted playfully before turning serious. It really was time for them to say goodnight. Timidly, he asked, "Can I kiss you now?"

The word "yes" barely escaped Elizabeth's mouth before Henry's lips came crashing down on hers. Just as they had the day before, Henry and Elizabeth each wrapped their arms around the other as they kissed. And once again, they were left breathless when they pulled apart from one another.

Only this time, she wasn't overwhelmed by negative thoughts. The smile remained on Elizabeth's face tonight, and she allowed Henry to continue to hold her while they said their goodbyes for the evening.

All her fears hadn't suddenly vanished overnight, but now when she felt thoughts of panic approaching, she grounded herself in the moment by asking herself to think of three things. Three things that made everything worth all the risks she was taking. What she thought of was this: _I like Henry, Henry likes me, and tomorrow night we get to do this all over again._


	10. Saturday Morning

On Saturday morning, Blake found himself filing reports in the outer office while he awaited the arrival of POTUS.

He couldn't help but think about how grateful he was that he was a natural multitasker, because honestly, he couldn't stop thinking about Friday night.

He'd told the president the truth on Thursday that he was happy for her, but that didn't stop him from worrying too. If anyone deserved a second chance at love it was Elizabeth Adams, but he'd always wondered who could possibly be trusted with her heart?

For years she'd been the most powerful woman in the country, and now she was the most powerful person in the country, arguably the planet. There were people left and right who wanted to take advantage of that power or screw her over in some way or another. Not to mention the fact that she was, by American standards of beauty, objectively speaking, gorgeous as well. Which meant that she had many people out there who just plain wanted to take advantage of her or screw her.

_Pigs_ _._ Blake thought. _All right calm down, Blake. The woman has a small army protecting her. Not to mention she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself._

Anyway, it was her heart that he was more worried about. Sure she could defend herself easily against physical harm, but what about emotional damage? Forget walls, this was a woman who had built up a _fortress_ over the years in order to protect herself. But by definition, loving someone meant dismantling all of that. Letting them in. You can't have it both ways. Blake sighed. That was the problem with love. It was risky.

And yet, at the end of the day, Elizabeth was the only one who got to decide when she wanted to take those risks.

But he could trust Henry McCord, right? He was Stevie's dad. She'd never had any complaints about him—well, any more complaints than a person typically had about their parent.

Although, even if Henry McCord was a good man, that didn't necessarily mean that he was right for the president. What if she got attached, but it simply didn't work out for reasons beyond her control?

Blake was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard footsteps approach and eventually stop next to his desk. His back was to the door, but without turning he greeted the young woman who'd just arrived. "Good morning, Emma."

"Dang it, Blake," she complained. "How do you do that?"

With his typical brand of deadpan sarcasm, he simply responded, "With my spidey senses."

The truth was that all of the assistants in the West Wing each had a very distinct walk. After two years, he always knew which one was approaching. But he liked to keep them on their toes. To keep up the appearance of the near-omniscience of ROTUS. There was after all, a reason he was running the show around here. At least, at the assistant level.

For her part, Emma managed to time her eye roll perfectly so that Blake wouldn't be able to see it before he finished turning around. However, the smirk of victory on her face gave her away.

Blake stared her down as he informed her, "Don't you roll your eyes at me, missy."

She apologized with a laugh, still amazed at Blake's uncanny ability to read a room. "Sorry, boss. Anyway, here are the reports POTUS took up to the Residence last night, and here's her morning muffin. It's cinnamon today. Her ETA is three minutes. Jay left the Oval to take a phone call, but Cassie's already in there."

"Alright, thanks," Blake responded, already reading the names of the reports to see which ones she might want to see again later and which ones he could file.

As promised, Elizabeth arrived after the three minutes had passed. Blake grabbed the muffin from his desk and began to greet her, but stopped mid-sentence when his eyes met the president's and he noticed the look on her face.

"Good morning, Blake," she replied, sailing right past the fact that he hadn't finished what he was saying. "Is there perhaps something you've _forgotten_ in the last couple days?"

Blake had no idea what she could mean. His mission in life was to always stay five steps ahead of whatever she might need. What could he have possibly forgotten? "Ma'am, I assure you everything in the office is running as it should be."

Elizabeth smirked. He clearly had no idea what she was talking about, but she wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. "Something you've forgotten to _tell me_ , maybe. Ringing any bells?"

"I apologize, Madam President, but I don't know—"

_Alright he's panicking now, time to reel it back_ _,_ she thought. She chuckled, "Blake, you didn't think to mention that my," she paused to look around, and mouthed the next word silently, "date last night was your best friend's father?"

"Oh thank God." Blake breathed a sigh of relief.

"Blake?" Elizabeth pressed.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, it's just you had me thinking I destroyed NATO or something."

Elizabeth paused to consider this. "I'm sorry, you're right. That would've been worse."

"Wait," Blake thought about what she was asking him. "How did this come up?" Were they talking about _him_ last night?

"Well we did talk about our children. We are in our fifties. It's not like we felt the need not to mention them for a few dates. Besides, I think the ship probably already sailed on me hiding that one," she remarked jokingly. "Anyway, I figured out that Stevie is his daughter. And Blake, you're important to me. I _do_ know who your friends are."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you myself, ma'am. I guess it just didn't seem that important."

"It's fine. Just tell me," Elizabeth asked looking rather nervous, Blake noted, "how much do you, you know, talk about me to other people?"

Blake was shocked at the question, "Ma'am, I would never—"

"Ah, don't deny it. Everybody talks about their boss at least sometimes. For crying out loud, she knows my favorite foods. So…?" She asked, gesturing desperately, waiting for him to answer her question.

Blake didn't even know where to begin. If Stevie had noticed the president's favorite foods, there was no telling the information she could've absorbed during their friendship. He also couldn't begin to guess what she could've observed during her time working for Russell Jackson or what she might've learned during her time working for the campaign.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I just don't think I could accurately estimate what Stevie might know. But, while I don't really know her dad personally, I know without a shadow of a doubt that Stevie is a trustworthy person, and loyal to you as well. I mean, we might not even be here if it weren't for her."

"Wait, what do you mean 'we?'"

"The donation."

Blake was still met with a look of confusion on the president's face.

"Martha's Vineyard. Shelton Anderson."

"Stevie helped you get that donation?"

"Helped? What? No. As much as it pains me to admit it, I was so focused on keeping our ride home that I was pretty much useless when it came to getting the donation. That was all Stevie. When Shelton was going on and on making one misogynistic comment after the next, Stevie defended you, and I don't really understand how she did it, but she changed his mind."

Elizabeth couldn't believe it. She had so many questions. And apparently, so did Blake.

"Did Mike B. not tell you?" Blake wanted to know.

"No. No he didn't. And when I met Shelton, he told me that I, 'Was lucky to have a young employee who was so dedicated and loyal to me. I assumed he meant you."

Blake felt guilty. He really should have done more to defend Elizabeth to that creep, but he'd been physically exhausted and emotionally drained from the campaign at the time. And he'd been panicking about making sure Anderson would keep up his end of the deal and fly him back to the campaign trail.

Elizabeth was still confused. "What did he mean 'employee?' She was Russell's intern, not mine."

"Ma'am, I guess you never really saw her because we were traveling so much, but Stevie worked for the campaign."

"She did?" This was definitely news to Elizabeth. She was operating in a fog of exhaustion under a great deal of stress for most of 2020, but she would have remembered that Stevie had worked for the campaign if she had known. Wouldn't she?

"Yes. She spent most of her time working out of the DC headquarters. I mean, you were never there. It makes sense that you never saw her. Like I said, though. I thought Mike B. would have told you who was responsible for securing our campaign-defining donation."

_One would think that wouldn't they_ _,_ Elizabeth thought. She honestly wasn't surprised that that detail had "slipped Mike's mind," so to speak. It seemed that she owed the McCords even more than she knew about. She wondered what else she might discover in the coming days, and God willing, months. Years? No, no, no. That was getting way, _way_ too far ahead of herself.

"Well, he didn't. But I very much appreciate you telling me now. Thank you."

"Of course. Anything you need. And feel free to let me know if you have any other questions in the future. But I should probably point out the daily briefing set to start in ten minutes."

At that, Elizabeth was startled back into the present. "Right. Of course. Are Jay and Mike both in there?"

"Mike is, but Jay has to step out to take a phone call?"

Elizabeth's eyes went wide. "You left Chloe alone with Mike?"

It wasn't that she thought anything catastrophic would happen leaving Mike alone with Jay's daughter, but Mike was far from anyone's idea of the poster boy for the ideal babysitter. It would be awkward for both of them.

Blake was horrified at the notion. "God no. Cassie's in there with them. She's waiting for you to get the chance to say 'hi' before she takes Chloe over to the Residence."

She smiled, relieved. "Great, thanks," Elizabeth responded as she finally took the muffin out of Blake's hands.

Elizabeth opened the door to the Oval and greeted its youngest occupant. "Good morning, sunshine."

"Morning," Mike greeted her, as usual, barely glancing up from whatever he was reading. Only upon feeling Elizabeth's glare did he finally realize, "Oh, you meant her? Fine, whatever."

Chloe was drawing at Elizabeth's desk, but she caught enough of the exchange to roll her eyes at Mike's behavior. Once she reached a stopping point in her drawing, she looked up from her sketchbook and greeted Elizabeth. "Morning, Aunt Bess."

"So," Elizabeth began as she made her way over to sit in the chair next to her desk, "what's on the agenda for today?"

"Cassie's going to take me up to the music room so I can practice for my oboe lesson this week. Then it's lunch with FLOTUS, and then I'll come back down to the West Wing so I can use the big table in my dad's office to spread out all of my art materials to work on my family tree assignment for school."

"Woah, sounds like you've got a busier day than I do, kiddo."

Chloe smiled at her ridiculous statement. "Well I highly doubt _that_."

Elizabeth laughed. She couldn't believe how fast time was flying. Chloe had always been a precocious kid, but she sounded so grown up now.

Cassie hated to interrupt, but she had to inform them that it was time to head upstairs. Elizabeth thanked her and wished them both well for the day.

Finally, Elizabeth turned her attention to Mike. "So," Elizabeth began, attempting to suppress the beaming smile that might give away the answer, "aren't you going to ask me how last night went?"

Mike looked offended. "You know, it insults me that you even think I'd have to ask. I've seen the list of approved visitors today. I know Lover Boy is on it. Not to mention, your face is practically glowing with the sickeningly sweet visage of a schoolgirl in lo—"

"Hey! What did I _just_ say the other day about the "L" word?"

"Fine, fine. I'll drop it." _For now_ _,_ he added silently in his thoughts. "Next order of business, I gotta ask: what gives?"

"Excuse me?"

"How come the kid gets to sit in the chair?"

"Because, she's a kid, Michael."

"Woah, woah, woah. No need to break out the full name. I'm just asking."

"Kids have a time-honored history of playing at and around this desk."

"Yes. And _JFK_ had the political savvy to get a photographer in here to capture the moment to sell the cuteness to the public. Because you know what his image was?"

"I don't know, Mike," she remarked sarcastically, "being the young man who, among many other things, led the country during some of the most significant events of the Cold War, inspired the nation to work to put men on the moon, and then tragically lost his life in a horrific assassination?"

"Yes! Young," Mike pointed out totally ignoring everything else she just said. "And you know what you told me your image was? 'Hey look, the nice lady with the glasses.' Well let me tell you this, while JFK might still hold the record for being the youngest president, _you_ _,_ Elizabeth Adams, are young, you are hot, and the public would love you even more than they already do if you would just occasionally let me show them how awesome you are."

"The Kennedys were pop culture icons. I have learned _nothing_ new about pop culture since my kids moved out."

"The public doesn't have to know that."

He still wasn't dropping it. She sighed "More importantly, I don't care about any of those things, Mike. Hear me when I tell you that I want to be known for more than what you just said. I want to be known as a president who worked her hardest to make people's lives better. And furthermore, five minutes before the daily briefing is not an appropriate time to talk about my image. So zip it."

"So you admit that there _will_ be a good time to talk about your image?" Upon being met with only a glare from Elizabeth, he raised his hands in defense and said, "Hey, I'm just checking. But know this, that protest after the impeachment inquiry might have done wonders for your approval rating, but you used up _a lot_ of political capital getting the ERA ratified.

I know it sucks, and it feels too high school for your taste, but politics is one big popularity contest. Sometimes you have to play the game you're in. And I know you don't want to 'use' Henry. And that's sweet and romantic and all that crap, but I'm sorry, you don't have the luxury of keeping him locked away from the public in some ivory tower. This _will_ change his life. And you need to talk to him about it. Soon."

"Mike, I don't want—"

"Bess," Mike interrupted her, his tone a bit harsher than he meant it to be. "Please listen to me. I would never want to extinguish your passion or your light or whatever you want to call it. But I need you to realize that you _are_ playing with fire here."

"And I have to make sure I don't get burned?" Elizabeth asked, attempting to mock him for his use of the cliché.

" _No_ _._ " Mike responded, emphasizing the word to distance himself from the cliché. "You have to make sure you don't burn down the entire forest. I know you hate this part of the job, but this is bigger than you. And you can't escape it. For the next, God willing, six years, every aspect of your life—every nook and cranny—is bigger than you. Now I know we haven't had to think about this much yet with regards to your personal life—"

"Why? Because up until now I haven't really _had_ a personal life?"

"You said it, not me. We are in uncharted territory here. Ever since the younger one learned his lesson after his Correspondents' Dinner smackdown, your kids have done an excellent job of staying out of the public eye. And as long as they don't instigate anything, the press can barely touch them, because they're 'kids' or whatever.

But Henry? This is a whole new ballgame, Bess. They will _not_ show him any mercy. The press will see him as a grown-ass man who makes his own decisions. He doesn't get to play the sympathy-for-the-poor-kids-who-are-forced-to-live-in-mommy's-shadow card. I need you to be prepared, because when the time comes, we need to be sure that we are out in front of the story, controlling the narrative."

"I hear you," Elizabeth began, getting just a little bit frustrated, "but we _have_ time."

Mike relented for the moment, but he was far from giving up on the issue. If time was what she thought she needed, he supposed he could give her the illusion that she had it. For now.

However, there would be no stopping him from working to protect her from this. He'll just have to read her in whenever she gets ready. Or, more likely, whenever the situation would inevitably _demand_ that she get ready.


End file.
